Days of Summer
by liviafan1
Summary: A young Kate Beckett spends her summer waitressing at a local shack on a Jersey beach, tending to her alcoholic father and paying her way through the academy. One night, her world turns on its feet when Rick Castle enters the door...and her heart. AU. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

She's so fired.

She checks the clock on her father's bedside table. Already half an hour late. She places the thin cotton blanket over her father and brushes her lips over his cheek. She grabs the empty bottle of bourbon that sits on the floor and tosses it in a recycling bin on her way out. The sound reverberates through the hallway like it does almost everyday, sometimes more than once. She shivers.

She shucks her jeans and pulls on a pair of cutoff shirts and her faded Lobster Shack tee shirt. She pulls an elastic around her long brown hair a few times, spinning it into a bun. Pocketing her cell phone and a stick of blistex, she shoves a pair of white socks into her blue keds. After checking on her father one last time, she jogs out of the house, feet pounding against weathered wood, shoes in hand.

The screen door slams behind her as she winces in the face of the blistering sun. She tiptoes gingerly on the blacktop before her skin meets the sand. She sprints down the beach, passing hoards of teenage girls sunbathing on their plastic beach chairs, tabloids in hand. The sea air stings her face as she does her best to ignore the whiny children, nagging their parents with sticky fingers from their drippy popsicles the ice cream truck brought.

"Katie!" She whips her head to the right and throws a half-hearted wave to Mrs. Steiner, ignoring the pit in her stomach at the use of the nickname. She's old, doesn't know any better, Kate tells herself.

She makes it to the run-down restaurant, breathless and weary. She grabs a worn black apron from the hook by the door and wraps it quickly around her waist, tying it with ease. Her stomach rumbles as the scent of shrimp fills her nostrils. She really should've eaten something today.

"You're late!" Her boss calls to her from the bar, filling a glass with beer from the tap.

Kate makes quick work of her socks and shoes and slips behind the bar, grabbing a tray.

"This is the third time this week, Beckett."

"I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." She knows it will, knows she can't make those kinds of promises.

"That's what you said last time." He sighs. "It puzzles me because you're a really hard worker otherwise. I can't really figure it out." There's no inflection in his voice, but the question is there.

"I've got everything under control, Mike. Really." She forces a smile.

He frowns. It's not what he wants to hear. "I've been trying to give you a break because of what happened to your mother, but enough is enough, Kate. If you can't get your act together, you're outta here."

She swallows hard. He shakes his head and reaches for a few drinks that sit on the bar. He lifts the tray onto her palm along with the beverages.

"Table three," he says roughly before brushing past her. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She makes her way over to a small group of young men who laugh raucously, empty baskets and bottles littered across the table.

"Miller Lite?"

"That's me, sweet thing." Kate suppresses an eye roll before handing the drink over to a Casanova in a black t-shirt. He leers at her, taking the drink from her hand. She clears her throat, shakes him off.

"Coors?" The man to Casanova's right raises his hand, takes the drink from her with a nod.

"And…scotch." She sets the glass down in front of the third man, startled when her eyes meet a pair of familiar blue ones. She hears herself gasp a little, closes her mouth quickly when Richard Castle smiles, eyes twinkling in amusement.

Damn. She's given herself away. She straightens her spine, tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"Can I get you guys anything else?"

"Your number." Casanova winks at her. She rolls her eyes. Casanova grunts in pain and rubs his leg, throwing a glare towards Castle. The corners of Kate's mouth twitch in amusement.

"We're fine for now." Castle says roughly, glaring back at Casanova before throwing Kate a reassuring smile. She nods, allows herself a small smile, and turns back towards the bar, nerves fluttering inside her stomach.

Richard Castle in New Jersey? She shakes her head, biting her lip. She remembers reading on the inside of one of his book jackets that he was from Manhattan, just like she was.

She mixes a few drinks behind the bar, lost in thought. A throat clears. She startles a little, spilling vodka on the bar.

"Here. Let me help you." She looks up to find him grabbing a few napkins, wiping the alcohol hastily. He throws her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

She shakes her head, waves him off. "It's fine. I've got this, though." He nods, backs off a little. She grabs a towel from below, notices him still standing there. "Do you need something?"

"A glass of water?"

"We don't have anything bottled and I'm not sure I'd recommend drinking from the faucet." She wrinkles her nose a little.

He laughs. "That bad, huh? Thanks for the warning, uh…"

"Beckett." He raises an eyebrow. Interesting first name.

"_Kate_ Beckett, actually. Sorry. Habit."

"Well. Thanks for the warning, _Beckett_." He teases.

She chuckles. "Anytime, Mr. Castle." She freezes, replaying what she just said. Great. If he didn't know she was a fan before, he certainly did now. She blushes a little.

He smirks. "Always nice to meet a fan."

"I never said _I _was a fan," She shoots back defensively. He nods, smirk never leaving his face. He doesn't believe her.

"Mm-hmm," he hums, placating her. She rolls her eyes.

"I should let you get back to work," he says, eyes on something down the bar. Her brow furrows in confusion. She follows his gaze. She sees Mike throwing her a glare while he takes someone's order. Shit.

She clears her throat, flustered. "Yeah, I should get back to work." She grabs a few things and places them on the tray carefully. "It was nice meeting you." Her eyes flick to his quickly, a curious expression on his face. She brushes past him quickly.

"You, too." She hears him say softly. She pauses in her tracks a moment, smiles to herself.

Five hours later, at closing time, Castle and his buddies are still there. She doesn't really have the heart to tell him that he has to leave, but Mike's getting impatient, pursing his lips while he wipes down the bar. The other waitresses have long gone home and Kate should really check on her dad.

"Hey, guys. I hate to break up the party, but we're closin' up."

Castle glances at his watch, raises his eyebrows. "I didn't realize how late it was. Come on boys." He claps them both on the shoulder.

"Rickyyy, we can't leave yet. I never got her number." Casanova slurs.

Castle frowns. "Probably for the best."

"How can you say that? Have you seen her ass?" His eyes rake over her unabashedly.

"Excuse me?" Kate folds her arms her chest, daring him to say it again.

"That's enough, Greg. We're leaving," Castle says firmly. He looks at Kate gently, apologetic.

Casanova slams his hand on the table, shaking the empty glasses that sit atop it. He gets up from his chair, knocking it to the floor. He reaches for Kate, a twisted smile upon on his mouth. She grabs his arm and spins him, planting his face on the table, arm twisted behind his back.

"I believe Mr. Castle said it was time to go." She hisses. She glances up at Castle, an expression of awe and curiosity written all over his face.

"Beckett! A word?" She hears Mike bark. Shit. She lets Greg go forcefully and makes her way towards Mike.

"What the hell was that?"

She stares back at him, incredulous. Seriously? "He's been putting the moves on me all night. Enough is enough," she says indignantly.

"He's a customer."

"_And_? You were practically shooting daggers at me to get them out of here."

"Get them out of here, not beat them up. Christ, Beckett," he grates, brushes a hand over his stubble.

"I'm not wrong here."

"Either apologize to him or you're fired."

Her mouth drops open. "You can't be serious." He folds his arms across his chest, challenging her. She scoffs, shakes her head. She tears the apron from her waist and throws it on the floor. She stalks out without so much as a glance back.

"Beckett!" She hears a voice, his voice, call after her. She doesn't stop, though. Doesn't want to talk to him, hear him make excuses for his friend. She tears the elastic band from her head, lets her hair down to whip angrily in the wind.

She hears him call after a few more times before she gives in. She sighs, waits for him to reach her. Her breath catches in her throat a little as the moonlight hits his face just right.

Jesus. The man knew how to make a girl swoon, she'd give him that much.

He finally reaches her, huffing breathlessly, palms poised on his thighs, head dipped towards the sand. She chuckles to herself, low enough for him to miss.

"What is it?" she asks, feigning impatience.

"I'm sorry. He was out of line."

She raises an eyebrow. You think?

"Completely out of line. We don't hang out much, so I've never…" he trails off, noticing the look in her eyes. She isn't interested in excuses.

"Your friend cost me my job, Mr. Castle," she says coldly.

"Maybe if I talk to your boss?" he asks.

"I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can, but—"

She cuts him off. "I've gotta get home. It's late and I'm exhausted. It was…interesting meeting you. Maybe I'll see you around." She shrugs before backing away, leaving before he can say anything else.

She doesn't miss the wounded look on his face, though, which festers inside her all the way home.

She walks into the old house quietly and switches the kitchen light on. She tosses her phone onto the counter and grabs herself a plastic cup from the cupboard. She looks up at a bottle of vodka that sits perched on a shelf. She reaches up, wraps her long fingers around it and pours some into the cup. She stares at it for a moment, reaches for it, pulls her hand back again.

With a sigh, she grabs the glass and dumps the contents into the sink, tossing the cup in with it.

She walks down the hallway slowly, and pushes gently on her father's bedroom door. He snores, clad in the same clothes he had on earlier. Only now, a new bottle of bourbon sits on the floor beside him. She shuts the door and presses her forehead against it, tears pricking her eyes.

Forty-five minutes later, Kate steps out of the shower, limbs heavy with exhaustion. She wrings out her hair and pulls on a long tee shirt and a pair a of basketball shorts. She runs a comb through her hair and shuts the light off, shuffling towards her bedroom.

She's just about to crawl in bed when she hears a loud knock on the door. She frowns, heavy eyes checking the clock. 1:00 a.m. She makes her way down to the stairs to hear two male voices speaking to each other. She immediately recognizes both of them. One of them belongs to her father, and the other one belongs to a man she met for the first time mere hours ago.

"Dad," she says gently, "Why don't you go back to bed?" She kisses him on the cheek.

"I'm not a child, Katie." He scolds her before brushing past her.

She glares at Rick. "What are you doing here?" She steps out onto the porch, shutting the door behind her.

"I know you said to leave it alone, but I couldn't, Kate. I had to make things right." She lets out a disbelieving breath. "I spoke to Mike, explained a little. He said your job's yours."

She doesn't say anything for a moment, isn't sure how to respond.

"Again, I'm sorry." His sincerity is too much for her to handle, too much to ignore.

She shakes her head, biting her bottom lip. "Thank you," she says softly. He nods, smiling warmly at her.

"There's something else."

She rolls her eyes. Of course there is. "What is it, Castle?"

"Go out with me."

Her heart stops. She definitely wasn't expecting that. "What?"

"It doesn't have to be a big thing, Kate. Just dinner and a movie." His eyes glint hopefully, daring her to deny him.

"I don't know, Castle…" A relationship is really the last thing she needs, the last thing she should be getting into.

"Can I at least call you?"

"What, so you can woo me over the phone?" she teases. He laughs.

"Something like that." She decides she can at least grant that request, reciting her digits as he scrambles to save them in his phone.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he promises. She narrows her eyes curiously, decides that he's telling the truth.

"Good night, Castle."

"Until tomorrow, Kate."

* * *

><p><em>It's different, I know. I had to give it a shot, though. Most of the backstory is the same and will be revealed in later chapters. Let me know what you think.<em>

_~Olivia_


	2. Chapter 2

Kate collapses on the couch, hair stuck to her forehead, clothes clinging to her body. She kicks off an old pair of flip-flops, letting them tumble to the floor. She digs her hand through the crevices of the couch, searching for the remote. She grabs it, her fingers sticking to the ends of duct tape. She'd had to tape the battery cover after her father had dropped it one too many times after falling asleep with it in his hand.

She shoves another cheap pillow behind her head and flicks on a rerun of Temptation Lane, turning the volume way down. She's too exhausted to truly pay attention, but it comforts her, keeps her company while her Dad spends his time passed out or painting a rundown beach house.

Her father's odd summer jobs keep her familiar with the locals, which Kate hates. She can't stand the looks on their faces, the scrutiny, as they watch and wait for her to screw up or buckle under grief. Kate used to go with him when she was younger, hand him a paintbrush or a socket wrench, but she stays away now that her mother's gone.

Her eyelids flutter closed just as her phone buzzes in her pocket. She groans and fishes it out, answers without checking to see who it is.

"Hello?" She says flatly. She runs her fingers through her dirty hair, rests the back of her hand against her forehead. She hears a man chuckle and her eyes immediately flit open.

"Your enthusiasm overwhelms me, Beckett." She rolls her eyes.

"You interrupted my beauty sleep, Mr. Castle."

"Really? I would've said that you're all caught up."

"Wow. What a line. You say that to all the girls?" she teases.

"Only the hot brunettes that wait on me in Jersey bars and read my books."

"This again? I think I pointed out that the fact that I knew who you were did not mean that I read your books."

"True. But you do."

"You'll never know," she promises.

"I don't need confirmation, Beckett."

She hums in amusement, shakes her head. "Did you just call to rib me about being a fan?"

"So you're admitting that you are one, then?" Damn.

"Not a chance," she replies smoothly. He laughs.

"There's this great little place in town that serves the best…" He rambles on about tilapia and shrimp, cute and nervous, and she hates that she has to turn him down.

"I can't," she interrupts him when he moves on to recite the dessert menu. She feels his disappointment in his silence.

"Can't or won't?" he asks quietly. She stiffens a little, surprised by his boldness.

"It's just…a bad night, Castle. That's all." Her father will be home in an hour or so and she needs to stay, needs to keep an eye on…things. She can tell he doesn't quite believe her and she's not sure she would either.

She does a little math in her head, unnerved by the fact that she can set her watch by her father's drinking schedule.

"Listen, I can't do dinner, but uh…maybe we could go for a walk later. After it gets dark?" She bites her bottom lip. She should probably stay in, but can't bring herself to say no. Doesn't _want_ to say no.

Dammit.

"Should I meet you at your house?"

"No," she says hastily. "I mean...just, uh, meet me outside the board rentals. That way you won't have to walk so far." She winces to herself, hopes he doesn't pick up on the fact that she doesn't want him near her father again.

"I won't be walking from the shack again. Your house is only a few blocks from mine."

She hesitates, doesn't know how to reason her way out of that one.

"But if it's easier for you, we can meet there," he says quickly, picking up on her reluctance.

"Yeah, it's… easier for me." She swallows hard, feels the hidden meaning of her words deep inside her bones.

"Nine o'clock?"

"See you then." She ends the call out of habit, hopes he isn't the type to respond with a final goodbye. She hates goodbyes.

Her rest is uneasy and fitful, the kind that ends up making her feel more tired than she was to start with. She dreams of her mother at the end of a knife, lying in an alley. It's all there—the only clear memory of a hazy dream—the blood pooled around Johanna Beckett, staining her clothes, lying slumped against a wall.

Kate awakens to newly-damp clothes and a queasy stomach. She shuffles quickly to the bathroom and shrinks to the linoleum, dry heaving over the toilet.

The nightmares are nothing new. She used to have them every night without fail, but now she was down to about one a week, something she was grateful for. She couldn't bear the look in her father's eyes when he woke up morning after morning to find her gaunt, dark circles haunting her eyes. It was almost worse than the nightmares themselves.

"Katie?" She hears him call from the kitchen. He must've just gotten back. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath.

"I'll be right out, Dad." She washes her hands quickly and splashes some cold water on her face. She dries her face with a ratty towel and pulls her hair back into a low ponytail. Still not great, but a small improvement.

She walks out to the kitchen to find her dad sitting at the table, paint-splattered jeans and all, nursing a glass of….water.

Water.

She lets out a breath, hopes it means today was a good day for him.

"Hi, Dad." She brushes a kiss across his cheek in greeting and pours herself her own glass of water.

"You okay, Kate?" He turns in his chair towards the sink that she's propped against, concern etched in the wrinkle on his forehead.

She nods, waves him off. "Just a long day. Tourists and their kids. You know." She gives him a small smile, hopes it reassures him.

"You could quit and come work for me. Might not be as much money, but it'd probably make you a little less crazy," he jokes.

She laughs a little. He has a point, she knows, but she can't. When she isn't at the shack, she's home holding her breath, waiting for something to happen to him, waiting for his addiction to take him away from her, too.

She can't spend her days next to him, constantly looking over his shoulder, worrying. It would drive them both nuts.

Of course, she would never tell him that.

She shakes her head. "It's really not so bad, gives me the opportunity to interact with new people." Like Richard Castle.

"Like the gentleman who showed up here last night?" He asks with a small gleam in his eye. Kate's heart warms immediately, hasn't seen such a look in his eye for…

Awhile.

She nods, feels herself blushing a little.

"He looked familiar," her father observes.

She hesitates, doesn't think she's ready to share, ready for him to know how very much the stranger means to her.

She shrugs in response, takes a gulp of water and places her glass in the sink.

"What are your plans for tonight?" she asks seamlessly.

"Bill's coming over later. There's a game on."

Bill was her father's age, a permanent resident who lived a few streets over. Jim met him a few summers ago when he helped him replace the plumbing in the bathroom.

Kate feels some of the tension leave her body. She could probably get away with leaving the house for awhile tonight, at least for an hour.

"You gonna stick around and watch the game with us?"

She shakes her head. "I'm meeting a friend later for a little bit. Shouldn't be gone too long, though."

"It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you were gone for longer than a little bit, Kate," he says wryly. She knows he's joking, doesn't really mean anything by it, but she can't help the way her spine straightens and head stiffens in a short nod.

"I'm just gonna grab a shower," she says tiredly. If he does notice the change in her demeanor, she hopes he lets it go, doesn't fight with her tonight.

She's just so very tired.

She brushes his shoulder lightly when she walks past him, a gesture of love and comfort.

"I love you, Katie."

She stops in her tracks. "I love you, too, Dad."

Normally, Kate would spend a decent amount of time fussing over her wardrobe. And since this is Richard Castle, Kate surprises herself when she opts for comfort, dressing in a pair of jeans and a white tee-shirt. She musses her wavy hair a little, slips into a pair of navy flip flops, and pockets a tube of Blistex.

"I'll see ya later, Dad. It was nice seeing you, Bill." The two men throw her simultaneous waves, eyes never leaving the screen. She rolls her eyes. Men.

She takes her time getting to their meeting spot, basking in the peace that the clear night sky brings her. She sees so little of it in Manhattan, nary a star to be found amongst the polluted air.

When she reaches the edge of the beach, she pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, tilting her head up to the moon. She loves the feel of it on her face. She finds it ironic that she spent much of her childhood fearing the dark when the worse thing that's ever happened to her occurred in broad daylight.

She continues her shuffle down the beach, where she finds him waiting, propped against the small stand. Her heart flutters a little when he notices her approaching and smiles.

"Hey."

* * *

><p><em>I'm going back to school this weekend and I imagine that I'll have some downtime, especially since I'm roommate-less for the semester, so I expect to have another one written by then. Enjoy your week.<em>

_Olivia_


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." He leans over and brushes a quick kiss against her cheek.

She laughs a little and shakes her head at him.

"What?" he asks, grinning.

"Nothing, you're just a little sure of yourself there, Mr. Castle." she teases.

He shrugs, unapologetic. "Shall we?" He gestures to the open beach before them. She nods.

They only make it a few steps before she peels off her flip flops and clutches them between her fingers. She sighs as the cold sand caresses her feet. She looks over at him, finds him watching her with a curious expression.

"What?" she asks defensively. "You don't like the feeling of sand beneath your feet?"

He smiles in amusement and pulls his shoes off in the same gesture, eyes never leaving hers, an answer to her question. She rolls her eyes and elbows him gently.

"Did you work today?" he asks her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

She nods. "Yeah, I had just left when you called earlier."

"That was okay, right? Calling you?" She's almost taken aback by his consideration, his hesitance. He came off so sure of himself the other night.

"I wouldn't have given you my number if it wasn't, Castle."

"I know, but after the other night, I just…I didn't want to make things worse."

"I took care of it, of him, and you got my job back. It's fine."

"Where'd you learn a move like that anyway?" He asks, in awe. She laughs, knows exactly what he's referring to.

"I'm not sure you could handle the truth." She's teasing, but also speaking the truth.

"Try me, Beckett," he challenges. She narrows her eyes. All right.

"It's one of the many maneuvers I've learned in my training at the Academy."

"The Police Academy?" She hears his voice go up a few octaves and winces. This is exactly why she didn't want to tell him.

"I didn't mean it that way. I'm just…surprised."

She raises an eyebrow. Really?

"It's actually kinda hot." He waggles his eyebrows playfully. She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against his. He stumbles a bit, caught off guard, and his feet splash against the water.

"It's cold," he whines.

"Don't be such a baby. Do I need to go back and get my sweater for you?" she mocks.

He glares. "You're a cruel one, Kate Beckett."

"Just for that, I'm not buyin' you ice cream."

"I thought that was my job."

"I thought this was the 21st century," she retorts. Truthfully, she's probably a little more old-fashioned that she'd like to admit, but she doesn't see anything wrong with picking up the tab on a date, if that's even what this was.

He throws his hands up in surrender. "Point taken." Her lips twitch at his easy compliance. He didn't even make her work for it.

"There's a shop up here a ways that's open til midnight."

"You know your way around pretty well. How long have you been coming here?" he asks curiously.

She looks up, does the math silently in her head. "I guess it's been almost every summer since I was five. My parents didn't buy the house til I was ten, though."

"This place certainly has its charm," he says. He looks almost wistful as he observes a family not far from them, wrapped in blankets around a beach campfire. Huh.

"Please. You can't tell me all the book parties and the glitterati get old. You must have a vacation house somewhere, don't you?"

"Yeah, in the Hamptons. But everyone's the same there—wealthy, standoffish. It's a completely different world here. People are more down-to-earth." He makes it a point to look at her when he says this, in a way that makes her lose her breath a little bit.

* * *

><p>She leads him to a shop that sits a little ways away from the beach, a weathered building that looks like it's been through a few hurricanes with chipped blue paint and shutters that are just slightly askew.<p>

"You're really attracted to buildings with history, aren't you?" he asks as he sits down next to her on a bench, chocolate ice cream cone in hand.

"What makes you say that?" She asks, taking a lick of her mint chip cone.

"The shack where you work, this place…your house, even. They all seem to have a history, a story to tell, even."

Kate smiles. He's much more observant than she would've originally pegged. She supposes it's the writer in him.

"Yeah, I suppose you can say that. Growing up here on this beach—I saw things that a lot of kids didn't, you know? I spent my Saturdays helping my Dad nail two by fours instead of watching morning cartoons. I guess you can say it gave me an appreciation for stuff like this." She gestures her head towards the shop.

"Your dad repairs houses?"

She shrugs. Sort of. "He does different things. One week he might paint someone's living room. Another week he might redo the plumbing in someone's bathroom. Whatever he's needed for, really."

"And your mom? What does she do?"

The piece of cone that swirls around in Kate's mouth suddenly tastes like cardboard. She swallows it roughly, tucks a piece of hair behind her ear self-consciously.

"She passed away a couple of years ago," she says quietly. She can't bring herself to meet his gaze, doesn't want his pity or his apology. She feels his warm fingers wrap around her arm, squeezing gently. Her chest tightens.

"Do you want me to walk you home?"

She shakes her head, blinks back tears. "No, I, uh, just don't usually talk about it. I'm fine, though. Really."

"You sure? I swear I don't usually make a girl cry until the second date," he jokes.

She laughs, full and rich, her chest loosening slightly at his attempt to cheer her up.

"You're a good man, Richard Castle," she admits.

"Can I get that in writing?" Off her look, he says, "Just a little…no? Okay."

"How long are you here for?" Kate asks, tossing the rest of her cone to a pigeon who lurks nearby. She lets her head rest upon her fist, elbow perched on top of the table.

"Just a few more days." She thinks she hears a tinge of regret in his voice.

"Then why bother?" There's no accusation in her tone, only curiosity.

The question doesn't seem to bother him. He shrugs. "I like you, Kate. You're not like the women that I've seen. You're kind of…mysterious."

She nods once, slowly, unsure of how she feels about the descriptor. She's certain that if he found the skeletons in the back of her closet, the secrets she was keeping, the mystery would get old pretty quick.

"I just want to get to know you better," he says simply, interrupting her thoughts. She can't fault him for that.

She smiles. "I guess I can handle that."

As he spins story after story for her, of his wild college days, of his adventures deep in research for his novels, Kate finds herself….well, captivated. It's corny and completely absurd and she'd never tell anyone (especially him), but she can't remember the last time she laughed so much in a single conversation with another person.

She thinks she can get used to this.

She can't even bring herself to reprimand him when he tells her about the time he stole a police horse naked. Instead, she hides a laugh behind her hand, hoping her eyes don't give her away. He throws her a knowing smirk. Damn.

"We should probably head back soon," he says regretfully, checking his watch. She checks her phone and her eyes widen. She practically shoots off the bench anxiously. The game her father was watching had surely ended hours ago. She's rarely away from him this long.

"You okay?" Castle asks, forehead scrunched.

She forces a smile. "Yeah. I just, uh, have to get up early for work. That's all." A lie, actually. She has the day off.

They don't say much on the way back. Kate's not sure she has the patience to maintain a conversation right now, with her father on her mind. She hates that she has to worry, has to lie to a man who's only been kind to her since their first meeting.

At least she had a couple of hours to herself.

* * *

><p>When they approach her house, Kate notices the living room light is still on. She sighs in relief, closing her eyes. The two men must've fallen asleep in front of the television. It wouldn't be the first time.<p>

"When can I see you again?" He asks, daring to brush a curl behind her ear. She shivers and turns her head, biting her bottom lip.

"Well, that depends, Mr. Castle."

"On?" She detects amusement in his tone.

She turns back to him, smiles. "On whether or not you're gonna buy me dinner."

"I thought this was the 21st century," he mocks.

"Doesn't mean a girl doesn't like to be swept off her feet every now and again," she throws back.

"I think that can be arranged."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Until then, Beckett."

He's really close now and she would only have to move a little bit to get his lips to touch hers. But instead, he places a warm hand on her arm and leans in to brush a kiss across her cheek, lingers longer than he did earlier. She blushes. Can't bring herself to be disappointed.

Oh, she was in trouble.

* * *

><p><em>One of the few perks about not having a roommate this semester is that I can write at 2 in the morning without worrying about keeping her awake. Though, mind you, I'm not a big fan of living alone, despite the benefits.<em>

_Hope everyone has a great week. Classes just started for me, so I'm not sure what the updating schedule will be like. Stay with me._

_Olivia_


	4. Chapter 4

Kate wakes up to a late morning sun beaming gently across her face. She throws her cotton comforter to the side and squints at the alarm clock at her bedside, eyes bleary. She can't recall the last time she slept til 11 o'clock, but finds that she can't bring herself to regret it.

She feels rested, light, and…happy.

She slides out of bed easily and shuffles to the kitchen, running a hand through her lightly rumpled hair. She reaches for the coffee pot in the corner, hand brushing against a piece of paper. She pours herself a cup and takes a tentative sip, humming softly as the warm liquid caresses her throat.

The note is from her father.

_Katie,_

_I'll be at Mrs. Steiner's all day tinkering around her furnace. Why she needs heat in the dead of summer is beyond me._

Kate laughs gently. The old woman hadn't changed at all.

_Enjoy your day off. If you go into town at all, will you pick up some milk?_

_Dad._

Kate smiles, sets her cup down on the counter on top of the note. A great start to the day.

Half an hour later, Kate's out the door, a small wad of cash shoved in the back pocket of her jean shorts, sunglasses hanging off the front of her old college tee shirt. Her long hair whips around her face in the summer breeze.

She pulls out her old ten-speed that she'd paid five bucks for at a garage sale a few summers ago. She wishes longingly for her motorcycle, loves the stability of the hard metal beneath her body. She'd left in Manhattan, though. Would've stuck out like a sore thumb if she drove it around here, anyway.

Her trip is short, the center of town only a little over four miles from the house. She locks her bike on a parking meter in front of a small bookstore. She pushes the door open, wrinkles her nose out of habit as the musty smell hits her nose.

She'd come to love it though, associates it with memories of curling up in the corner with a paperback by the dusty window, watching her mother's fingers skim over her favorite mystery titles.

Her eyes flick behind the counter quickly. She sighs, doesn't recognize the teenage girl with her nose buried in an old Baby-Sitter's Club paperback. She flocks immediately to her favorite section, eyes scanning the C's. She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding as her eyes land on his first novel.

She removes it from the shelf and flips through it, searches for signs of wear or tear. It's perfect, apart from a few dog-eared pages.

She'd read the book, certainly, but hadn't managed to get her hands on her own copy. After stumbling upon it at the library one afternoon, she'd devoured it in a couple of days. She'd immediately ran to the bookstore and bought the rest of them, but the first one had been out of stock. The store wouldn't order it for her and she hadn't been able to find it elsewhere. It was odd, really, because it hadn't even been one of his best. Kate loved it, sure, but mostly for sentimental reasons.

She starts to walk to the counter, book clutched protectively under her arm, when she hears voices approaching. She pauses, listening.

"…great if you have it. I've had a hard time getting my hands on it."

Castle, Kate realizes with a smile. She makes a move towards him, still out of sight, when it hits her.

She'd told him that she had to work today. If he sees her there, he'll know she lied, will surely want answers.

Answers that she isn't ready to provide.

She replaces the book hastily and dashes to the corner, hidden behind a break in the wall. She chances a glance in his direction, finds him talking to the girl she'd spotted behind the register. She twists her ear, but can't make out what they're saying.

Five minute have hardly passed before she hears him walk out the door. She sighs, closing her eyes as she rests her head against the wall. Close one. She goes back to his section, looks for the book where she replaced it, but it isn't there. She scans the titles quickly, but doesn't find it.

Unless. She looks towards the door and then back at the shelf, puzzled.

Why would he buy his own book?

* * *

><p>She finishes the rest of her errands quickly, even manages to stop at the shoe store on the corner for a pair of heels. The only shoes she'd ever kept at the house were her Keds and flip-flops, and she doesn't really want to wear those to dinner with Castle.<p>

She's hardly known him two days and she already thinks of him fondly as Castle, a man who drives her up a wall and makes her blush in a single breath. She has a hard time reconciling him with Richard Castle, the author who'd kept her sane in the whirlwind of her mother's death. She knows they're one and the same, can feel it in the way his words wrap around her in speech and in print.

Once she's back home, she props the bike against the side of the house, a reminder to fill the air in the tires when she gets a chance. She pushes her sunglasses up her face, threading them through her hair.

"Need a hand, Katie?" She startles a little at the sound of her father's voice behind her. She shakes her head, bags in hand.

"No, thanks. I'm—" She turns to him and swallows hard when she sees that he's not alone. "Fine," she finishes weakly as Castle's face looks back at her. He's smiling at her, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Her heart sinks.

"Mr. Castle stopped by to see you, make sure you were okay since he didn't see you at the shack today. Were you supposed to work today?"

"No, Dad, I wasn't," She says, managing to keep her voice even. He's only digging her hole deeper, but he couldn't have known.

"Must've been a miscommunication." Castle shrugs, as if it could be that easy, but she doesn't believe him, that he'd let it go so easily.

"You two have plans this evening?"

Jesus Christ. She wishes he would just stop talking.

"Dad, can you give us a minute, please?" Kate asks. His interest is peaked, it's written all over his face. He nods slowly, though.

"I'm sure there's a game on somewhere, anyway."

"It was great to meet you, Mr. Beckett."

"Please. Call me Jim." The two men shake hands before her father takes the bags from her and heads into the house.

She searches his face, biting her bottom lip. He forces a quick half-smile, but lets it drop off his face.

"I lied to you," she says simply. He nods shortly, waits for her to continue.

"I'm sorry. It—" She shakes her head, looks down at her feet. "I know I haven't given you a reason to trust me, but—" She looks up at him again, meets his confused stare. "I'm not ready to tell you yet."

"I don't understand, Kate. You're not ready to tell me what?"

She sighs. "There's a reason why I lied to you last night, Castle. I didn't have to get up early for work. I—" She pauses. "It has to do with my father. But I just can't—I can't tell you now, not yet when I've only known you a couple of days."

"You don't trust me yet." His tone isn't accusing, only understanding.

"Actually, no. It's the fact that I feel like I _can_ trust you already. It scares me and I don't want to do or say something that I'll regret later."

"Okay," he says simply.

"Okay?" She's surprised, thought for sure she'd have to fight harder.

"Kate, I can't ask you to reveal your darkest secrets after two days. I get it. I wish you hadn't lied, but I get it." He shrugs.

She smiles. "So, what? You showed up at work today because you couldn't wait until tonight to see me?" she teases, breaking the last remnants of tension.

He grins. "Actually, I came to bring you something."

Her eyes flick to his empty hands. "Well, where is it?"

His smile falters a little and his brow furrows, as if realizing for the first time that he doesn't have it with him. She holds back a laugh.

"Huh. I must've left it at home."

"Forgetting things already? You must be getting old, _Mister_ Castle."

He narrows his eyes playfully. "You better watch it, Beckett."

"Or else?" she retorts.

"Or else…" he trails off, leans in close, breath tickling her ear. She shivers.

"Maybe I'll just skip the goodnight kiss," he whispers. She sighs, almost doesn't register his words. If she just tilt her head a little to the left—

"See you tonight, Beckett." He says in his normal voice, pulling away from her. She jumps a little, frowns.

He starts to walk away, grins back at her.

"Six o'clock sharp!" She calls after him, lips twitching in amusement.

She watches him turn the corner before she makes her way towards the front of her house, shaking her head.

That beautiful man.

* * *

><p>It's 4:26 a.m. I have no idea why I'm still awake, but alas. A friend brought it to my attention that it's probably not likely that Kate would have any kind of summer break from the Academy. I probably should've done some kind of research into that, but I didn't. So for all intents and purposes in this story, there's a small break. Have a great week!<p>

Olivia


	5. Chapter 5

"You look beautiful, Katie." She brushes by her father on the way to refrigerator, hides a smile behind the open door. He looks up from his solitaire game, notices her fidgeting with her black top anxiously.

"You know, you remind me of your mother when you do that." She sucks in a breath; her grip on the handle of the refrigerator tightens. "I'd find her tugging on her dress or adjusting the strap of her shirt almost every date we had for the first six months. Used to tease her about it relentlessly."

She swallows hard, staring at the shelf in front of her.

"Kate?"

She blinks, shuts the door forcefully. "We really need to get groceries soon."

He sighs, slaps a card on the pile. "It's okay to talk about her, you know."

She runs a hand loosely through her curled hair. "Are we really gonna do this now? He'll be here any minute."

"Then when, Kate? Tonight? Tomorrow? You never wanna talk about it."

She laughs in disbelief. "Seriously? You're gonna sit there and give me a lecture about Mom when you can't spend one goddamn day sober, Dad?"

He stiffens, knuckles white as he grips the Ace of Spades in his hand. She waits for him to say something, anything, but he doesn't. Shit.

She'd pushed him too far.

"Dad, I—"

He sighs, manages to put the card down. He looks up at her and forces a brief half-smile. "Go have fun on your date, Katie," he says softly.

She bites her bottom lip, opens her mouth to apologize. Before she can say a word, there's a loud knock on the door. Perfect timing.

"Come in!" Jim calls.

Rick walks in, grinning broadly, bouquet of daisies in hand. Kate lets him brush a kiss across her cheek, but she's too distracted to enjoy it. She does see his smile fade a bit, probably picks up on the tension.

She tears her eyes away from her father, turns to him.

"Can you just wait outside for a second?"

He deflates another notch. Jesus Christ. When was she gonna stop screwing this up?

"Uh, sure. These are for you." He hands her the bouquet. She smiles, genuine, and lifts them to her nose.

"They're beautiful. Thank you." She hesitates a bit, but leans in to kiss him on the cheek. Figures she at least owes him that much. His eyes brighten.

"Good to see you again, Jim." He nods once and steps out, closing the door behind him.

"He must really like you," He observes.

"Dad—"

"Kate." He sighs. "Go out. Have fun. God knows you don't do this often. Don't worry about this tonight, okay? We _will_ talk. I'm not letting you off the hook, but you deserve to just have some fun. I'll be fine."

"I love you." Her voice wavers. God, she feels like seven years-old again.

"Oh, Katie." He pushes the chair back from the table and reaches her quickly, wraps her in a hug. "I love you, too."

He pulls back, smiles slightly. "He's a lucky guy. "

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. He takes the flowers from her and grabs a vase from under the sink, filling it with water. She grabs her leather jacket from the hook by the door and slings it across her arm. "Good night."

"Have fun!" he calls out behind her as she shuts the door.

She finds him sitting on the porch swing, rocking back and forth, staring at his clasped hands.

"Hey," she says softly.

"Everything okay?" He gets up from his spot, shuffles close to her.

She nods. "Yeah. Thanks for waiting."

"You're really making me work hard for this, you know." She can see traces of doubt in his eyes, despite his teasing tone.

"I know. Things are just a little…complicated right now." She's giving him the same party line yet again. "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to apologize for. Family's important, Kate. I get it."

Jesus. Where had he been hiding all her life? "Thank you."

He digs his car keys out of his pocket.

"We're taking your car?" She asks, leading him down the sidewalk.

"Unless you wanna drive?"

"I just have my softtail here, so—" She stops in her tracks, realizes he's not beside her. She looks back to find him dead in his spot, mouth dropped open slightly.

"You—you have a motorcycle?" He splutters.

"You're gonna catch flies with your mouth open like that, Castle." She laughs, bites her bottom lip.

"God, that's sexy," he breathes, unfiltered. Ha. She likes this side of him.

"I'm not sure you're ready to see me in action. I think taking your car would be the wisest choice here."

His face falls comically. "Third date?"

"Let's get through this one first and then we'll talk," she teases, shaking her head at him. She takes a few more steps, but pauses again, the corners of her mouth twitching. She whips her head around. He still hasn't moved.

"You comin'?"

He snaps out of his reverie. "Yeah."

* * *

><p>"Jesus, are we crossing state lines?" Kate asks, glancing at the digital clock on the dash. They'd been driving for at least a half an hour.<p>

"Why, you got a hot date later?"

She laughs. "No, you're the only hot date on the agenda for the night."

He smiles smugly. "You called me hot."

She rolls her eyes. "Don't get used to it. Wouldn't want to inflate your over-sized ego anymore." He throws her a look.

"Seriously, though. You aren't kidnapping me, are you?"

"Would you chill? We're here."

"He says as he pulls into a nondescript lot." She looks around, but doesn't see much of anything, except for a few abandoned buildings. She narrows her eyes at him.

"You are really paranoid, Beckett," he observes.

"Comes with the job."

He leads her across the parking lot and through a short alleyway.

"Almost there," he promises. She nods, wordless. "You're not a fan of surprises, are you?"

"Hate them."

"Hmm. Pity."

She raises an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Why would anyone want their life to be so predictable?"

"I've had a lot of unpredictability in my life, Castle. I think I've had my fill." He realizes then what he said, how it must sound to her, the woman who lost her mother at such a young age.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't—"

"I know," she says softly. "Don't worry about it." She takes his hand in hers, proving a point, and squeezes it gently. He looks at their joined hands in wonderment and her breath catches.

She feels like sixteen again.

She watches as he flexes his fingers to lace their hands together. He lifts his head and slowly reaches out with his other hand, brushes his fingers against her cheek.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"

She can't breathe. He's locked her breath away with the look he's giving her, like she's the only thing that matters in the world right now.

Second date, Kate. Second date.

Christ, she needs to calm down.

He seems to be thinking the same thing. He lets his hand fall away, brushing the edges of her chin with his fingertips as he goes. She shivers.

"Come on." He leads her away again, but doesn't drop her hand.

They make it past an empty warehouse when they come across a small restaurant, tucked between the warehouse and an old, crumbling parking garage.

"Both of these areas are condemned, which is why we parked over there," he explains.

"Going to an awful lot of trouble for this place, Castle," she notes warily.

"It doesn't seem like much, I know, but the food is fantastic."

Her stomach grumbles immediately as she steps inside, the delicious aroma assaulting her senses.

"I love Italian," she gushes.

He laughs. "I'm glad you approve."

He grasps her elbows gently. "I'll be right back." His whispered words caress her ear from behind. She hums softly in acknowledgment, but doesn't fully process what he's said until he's left her standing there, missing his touch.

It's a little cheesy, she thinks as she glances around the room. In fact, it's a lot cheesy, but she can't bring herself to seem to mind. The tabletops are adorned with checkered tablecloths with a small vase of flowers in the middle, candles flickering lightly around the room.

Honestly, she'd expect nothing less from him.

"I know. It's pretty cheesy, right?" He sidles over to her, waiter in tow.

She smiles, shrugs. "It's cute."

They follow the waiter to a semi-secluded booth in the back, beneath a window.

She barely sits down before she begins thumbing through the menu, barely notices as the waiter takes their drink order.

Or rather, their wine order.

"I should probably warn you that I'm a little bit of a lightweight."

"Should I look for an appearance from Tipsy Kate tonight?"

"Not unless you want an appearance from Naked Kate as well," she says nonchalantly, eyes never leaving the laminated page in front of her.

"Well—"

"Kidding, Castle," she warns.

"Good. I, uh, didn't want to have to take advantage of you or anything."

"You'll find that I rarely need persuaded in that department, Castle." She lifts her head to find his eyes darken slightly, the menu clutched a little too tightly in his hands. Her mouth goes dry.

Second date, Kate. Second date.

* * *

><p><em>Updates are kinda short, I know. I'm really not the fastest writer, unfortunately. I'm working on it. Thanks for sticking with me.<em>

_Olivia_


	6. Chapter 6

_This is the second update in 24 hours (don't question it), so skip back if you haven't read the one before this._

* * *

><p>Her head hums softly, the wine tingling in all the right places. She twirls her last bite of spaghetti around her fork as the waiter comes over, offering more wine.<p>

"We're good, thanks."

Kate feigns a pout. "Maybe I wanted another glass."

"You just finished your third glass and that blush on your face hasn't gone away for the last half an hour," he teases.

She laughs. "Touche." She finishes the last of her meal and lets her fork gently clatter to the plate. She rests a hand gently against her full stomach.

"I take it you're not ready for dessert?"

She shakes her head. "Maybe later."

He flicks his wrist to check the time, raises his eyebrows.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, we just need to get going if we're going to make the showing."

"Where are we going?" Surely, there was a movie theater close by.

"It's a surprise." She frowns before she can stop herself, the wine inhibiting her filtering system.

"You hate surprises. I know," he says softly. She opens her mouth to reassure him, tell him it's fine, that she really doesn't mind, but he cuts her off. "You'll like it though, I promise. If you don't, you have my permission to shoot me," he jokes.

"Doesn't really hold a lot of merit since I don't have my glock on me," she says wryly.

"Guess you'll just have to take my word for it, then." He slides out of the booth and stands, holding an open palm out for her to take. She takes it, allows him to tug her up gently so they're mere inches apart. He places a steady hand on her waist.

"Thanks for dinner." She's a little dizzy, can't tell if it's from the wine or the look he's giving her.

Ultimately, she doesn't really care.

"Anytime." His voice is raspy, and—God, help her—sexy as hell. Her eyes flick to his mouth and back up to his eyes again. She wants to kiss him, almost does, until she remembers that they're in a semi-public location. She really doesn't like PDA.

Although maybe she could make an exception.

Yeah, she definitely had too much wine.

"The movie, Castle," she reminds him regretfully.

"Right." He lets out an adorable nervous laugh, removing his hand from her hip to grasp the ends of her fingers.

He puts on an old jazz station in the car. Kate leans back in her seat, eyes closed, hums softly along. She hasn't felt this relaxed in a long time.

"You're not falling asleep on me, are you?"

"Mmm. No," she mumbles.

"Do you want me to take you home?" She opens her eyes and lifts her head then, needs him to see the contentment in them, not boredom or exhaustion.

"I'm having a great time, Rick," she says softly. He takes his eyes off the road for a second to meet her imploring gaze. He smiles and nods, accepts it as truth.

"Just enjoying the music, Castle. Nothing to worry about," she mutters, assuming her previous position, faking exasperation. He doesn't say anything, doesn't have to. She hears it all when he flicks the volume up, only slightly.

Her eyes flutter open a short time later when he kills the engine. She looks around, confused. They're sitting in a parking lot that borders the beach near a campsite, where out-of-towners come to stay in their tents and recreational vehicles.

She remembers coming here a few times when she was younger, before her parents bought the house. They'd stay in a motel twenty miles from the beach because it was cheaper. They'd throw their beach equipment in the back of their car and pay five bucks to park here, a few steps from the beach.

Castle fumbles around in the back seat, producing a few blankets. He sets them in her lap.

"Hold these, will you?" She watches him curiously as his hand wraps around the handles of a picnic basket that sits on the floor in the back.

"I thought we were seeing a movie, Castle."

He doesn't say anything, just gets out of the car, basket in hand. She rolls her eyes and follows, blankets clutched tight to her body.

She follows him to the edge of the beach, brushing her hand across her face as the sea air whips her hair across her face, catching in her Blistexed lips.

They walk for a few minutes before he leads her to the back of a boogie board shack, dropping the basket gently on the sand.

"Stay here?" It's a question, almost, mostly because he really wants her to stay there, but won't command her to do so. She sets the blankets down on top of the basket and steps out of her heels. She sighs as her bare feet meet the sand, wiggles them a little.

She sees a light flicker on through a tiny window in the back, cranes her neck to see if she can catch a glimpse, but no dice.

Hmm. How strange.

He's back only moments later, dragging an extension cord across the sand?

"Isn't that a little dangerous, Castle?" She asks, eyebrows raised. They were several hundred yards from the water, but still.

He shrugs. "Should be good as long as the weather holds up."

She looks up at the sky, clear and bright. Breathtaking.

"It—" She stops and frowns when she sees him walking back inside the building. She sighs and unravels a blanket. Might as well get comfortable. She sits down just as he comes back, wheeling some kind of…

Projector? No, it couldn't…

"Castle?" she asks in delighted disbelief. He only smiles, busying himself with the cart. He flicks the light on and a screen appears suddenly on the back wall. Kate lets out a disbelieving laugh as the Warner Bros. logo lights up the screen.

"This is perfect," she breathes. She tears her eyes away from the screen as he sits down next to her.

She shakes her head. "How-?"

"I play poker with the owner. They close up around 11, though, which is why I was in such a rush to get here."

It's cheesy and romantic and completely…perfect.

"So what's in the basket?"

"Dessert." He flips open the basket and pulls out a plate of homemade brownies, a couple of bottles of water, two glasses, and a bottle of wine.

"I hadn't planned on having wine at dinner," he jokes. She chuckles, reaches for the water, untwisting the cap. She glances back at the screen, notices the titles for _Casablanca _appear.

Damn. Who knew Richard Castle was such a romantic?

"Does this meet Kate Beckett's approval?"

She laughs a little, tilting her head back in the slightest. She looks over at him, his eyes bright and full with happiness. Hmm. She caps her forgotten water, lets it roll from her hands onto the sand. His Adam's Apple bobs visibly, seeming to anticipate her next move.

She smoothes her thumb across his earlobe, brushes her hand down to rest against his cheek.

"Kate…" he whispers. She hears it all in her name, practically pleading. He needs her to want this, _them_. Doesn't have the strength to stop her if she doesn't want it, too.

"Consider me swept off my feet, Castle," She breathes before finally melding her lips to his.

* * *

><p><em>Guys, I know. Super cheesy and everything, but I needed it. There'll be plenty of angst later, so just let me have this. ;)<em>

_150 alerts? You guys are too good to me. Busy week coming up, so I'll do my best._

_Olivia_


	7. Chapter 7

She isn't sure when she fell asleep, only that she must've crashed from the sugar that ran rampant in her veins. She can't recall the last time she's had wine _or_ brownies, let alone both in the span of a few hours.

When she wakes up, she finds herself cradled in the vee of his legs, head pressed against his chest, blanket strewn over both of them. She rubs her eyes as the last of the credits roll.

"Morning, sunshine," His words rumble through his chest, sending a tiny shiver down her spine. Not altogether unpleasant.

"How long was I out?" She manages through a yawn. She feels him shrug.

"Only about an hour, I think. I assume you've seen it before?"

She lifts her head to meet his eyes, raising an eyebrow. Seriously? His eyes crinkle in amusement.

She rolls her eyes. "Only about half a dozen times, Castle."

"Only half a dozen? I've seen it at least ten," he boasts.

"You're also, what, a whole _seven_ years older than me?" She throws back, eyes glinting.

"Ouch, Beckett. Way to make me feel old." He clutches his chest dramatically, putting on his best wounded face. Exaggerated, but effective. She rolls her eyes and brushes a kiss across his lips, letting her hand linger on his cheek.

"Better?"

He clears his throat, looks a little breathless. She can hardly believe that he can be dazed by such a simple kiss. "Y-yeah."

She laughs, bowing her spine slightly to stifle laughter. She's definitely a little tired, probably still a little tipsy from the wine. It settles in all the right places, though, quiet and content.

She shifts her body again, her laughter quelling deep in her throat, replaced by a deep gulp of air when she sees the look in his eyes.

Entirely too soon for that look. It isn't even a third date look, or a fourth date look. Probably not even a sixth or seventh.

And it's certainly not a _second_ date look.

"I'm scaring you," he says quietly, shaking his head at himself.

"No," she says too quickly. He throws her a look. "Okay, yes," she concedes.

"I just get caught up sometimes, forget the context of the world at the time. There are greater things at stake than just two people in the moment."

Her brow knits in confusion. What's that supposed to mean? "Things?"

He hesitates. "Let's just say that there are things I'm not ready to tell you yet, either."

_Oh_.

Fair enough, she supposes.

He waves his hand, dismissing the conversation for now. "Sorry."

She shrugs, doesn't really need the apology. She can't begrudge him when he's been so understanding about everything she's kept from him.

God, she wants to tell him, needs to tell _someone_. She's so very tired of carrying it around by herself, starts to feel her shoulders buckle and her muscles tense under the weight of it all.

She's _almost_ certain he would treat her confessions with respect, wouldn't dare to reveal them in any way that she wasn't comfortable with.

It's still too soon, though. She can't chance it.

She shifts away from him and points her body in the direction of the moon. She shivers, wrapping the blanket tight against her small frame. She sighs, resting her cheek against the tops of her knees.

He lets her sit there in silence for a few moments before he places a gently hand against her back.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

She nods awkwardly, the side of her face brushing against her leg.

"There's no one you can talk to?"

She sucks in a breath, really doesn't want to get into this now.

"It's fine." She exhales slowly. "_I'm_ fine."

"Okay," he says simply. She hopes that someday he'll press her further; she'll probably need a nudge (or a shove, rather), but she's grateful for his easy concession now.

She slides her hand lightly through the sand towards him, an invitation. He rests his warm palm on top of hers, skimming the inside of her wrist with his fingertips before laying them to rest between her phalanges.

"This helps," she says quietly.

"Anytime you wanna use my body to uh, help, Beckett, feel free." She's grateful for the joke, at his ability to gauge the needs of her mood after only a short time.

She snorts. "Don't hold your breath."

She looks over at him to find a smile his eyes twinkling in amusement. She rolls her eyes, a small smile gracing her lips. She shakes her head and turns her attention back to the sky.

Sometime in the silence his thumb begins to trace light circles on the back of her hand. She lets out a whoosh of breath, feels some of the lingering tension leave her body, hypnotized and soothed by his motions.

"I should go pack up the projector before he leaves."

"Do you want some help?"

"I'll only be a minute." He lightly squeezes her hand before sliding his away slowly. Missing the warmth, she wraps her hand around her body, shoving it under the blanket.

She squints down the beach, watching the waves crash violently along the shoreline. They break roughly, something that she doesn't see all that often, except during a storm. She lifts her head, searching for a break in the clear sky. Sure enough, she sees a front moving their direction from town.

"I should probably get you home." She jumps at the sound of his voice, alarmed more than anything that he was able to catch her off-guard. Glad that training at the Police Academy was being put to good use.

She pulls the blanket from her body and rolls it up, tucking it beneath her arm. She grabs her discarded shoes and rises to her feet, brushing remnants of sand from her clothes.

She watches as he bends over to pick up the picnic basket, loves the way his dark jeans hug the hard lines of his body. Her eyes linger a little too long, though, and he catches her, smirking. She ducks her head, blushing.

He doesn't make a joke, lets her keep the moment to herself. His eyes shine, happy and amused, as he holds out a hand for her to take. She grabs it and lets him lead her to his car.

* * *

><p>Kate's nerves prickle as the rain pelts the window relentlessly, the sky flashing every minute or so. She feels the rumble of the thunder deep in the pit of her stomach, making her uneasy. She fiddles with her hair anxiously, fixing her eyes on the light of the dash.<p>

"You look a little pale, Kate," he observes, concerned.

"I feel funny," she confesses, eyebrows knitted. She doesn't understand why she's agitated; storms have never bothered her before.

"Are you afraid of the storm?"

She shakes her head. "It isn't like that. I don't know. I just feel…off."

He kneads the back of her neck with his nimble fingers, attempting to ease the knots that have worked their way into her muscles.

"We're almost home," he promises.

They dash to her front porch, breathless as wind whips wildly around them.

"You could've stayed in the car," she says, brushing her tangled hair out of her face.

He shrugs.

"I mean, I've already given you the obligatory first kiss," she teases.

"Does that mean I don't get another one?" He pouts.

"I didn't say _that_." She steps closer to him, lets her fingers brush against his face a moment, wiping away lingering drops of rain. His hand covers her, slides it down to remain in his grasp against his side.

"I had a great time tonight, Kate," he breathes.

She grins, full and genuine. "I did, too."

She loves the way his face delights in her words, as if he wasn't expecting her to reciprocate in the slightest.

She leans into brush a kiss against his cheek, lets her mouth skim the side of his face, breaths mingling. She places a kiss just under his eye, slides her mouth down to hover just slightly above his lips.

"Kiss me, Castle," she whispers. He lifts his palm to her cheek as his mouth descends upon hers. His lips are cold and delicious from the rain. Her hands grip the front of his wet shirt, tugging him ever so closer. His fingers rest on her waist, gliding over the small sliver of exposed skin. She shivers.

He pulls back slowly, lets his mouth travel to kiss her on the forehead before letting his head rest against hers.

"I should go," he says softly. He brushes the backs of his fingers against her cheek before letting them drop to his side. She nods against his head.

"I'll call you tomorrow? What time do you work?"

"Mid-shift. Eleven to seven, I think."

"You feeling any better?"

Her anxiety hasn't dissipated; she thinks it's taken a backseat to her racing heart at the moment, but it's still there somewhere.

"A little. Maybe I'll feel better in the morning."

He squeezes her hand, nods once. "Good night, Kate."

"Until tomorrow." Her mouth twitches, waits for his answering smile.

She isn't disappointed. He grins, kisses her again once more before heading back out into the storm.

She steps inside the house, kicking her heels off onto the rug by the door. She peers around the counter, notices the flicker of the television against the wall in the living room. He must've waited up for her.

She shuffles into the room, finds him asleep in his chair, the remote forgotten on the floor. She should really wake him so he can sleep in his bed. She hesitates, but flicks the television off before approaching him.

"Dad," she says softly, shaking him gently. No response. She feels the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach start to rise up again.

She shakes him harder. "Dad!" she calls, louder this time. She feels her breathing quicken, heart constricting in panic. He's never been this hard to wake. She shifts to his side, her foot knocking over an empty glass bottle on the floor. She reaches it for it.

Bourbon. She finds the discarded cap lying not far from it, which can only mean…

Entire bottle. In a matter of hours.

Shit.

"Dad!" Her voice breaks, tears pricking her eyes. She fumbles in her pockets for her phone, but it isn't there. She flies to the landline phone that sits on a stand next to the television. She picks it up with shaky hands, listens for the dial tone.

There isn't one.

"Fuck." She dashes to the kitchen, looks around frantically for her phone. Doesn't find it anywhere.

She swipes the back of her hand against her eyes, brushing the tears away. She takes a shuddering breath. Think, Kate.

She can't take him herself. There's no way she'll be able to carry him out to his car.

Neighbors.

She sprints to the door and yanks it open, colliding with a solid, warm body.

"Castle?"

"You left your phone…" He pauses, sees the sheer panic written all over her face. "Kate, what—"

"I need your help. Please." Her voice breaks on a sob. She races back towards the direction of the living room. Can't afford to waste more time.

"I need you to help me get him to the hospital."

His eyes widen at the sight of her father unconscious on the chair.

"Kate, what happened?"

"Castle, please!" Her voice is raw and desperate, clenched tight under the grip of her emotions.

He doesn't ask any more questions.

* * *

><p>They've got him in the car lying flat in the backseat of Rick's car.<p>

"Do you know where the hospital is?" She asks as they fly out of her driveway.

He nods. "I took my daughter there last summer when she got the chicken pox."

His…_what?_

His eyes widen, realization dawning on him.

"Later, Castle," she says weakly. She'll deal with him later, after she can be sure that her Dad will be okay. Her eyes flit anxiously to the back seat, looking for signs of life, of movement. She clenches her hands tight against her thigh.

She can't lose him, too. She wouldn't survive it.

* * *

><p><em>Well, then. Off to do homework...<em>

_Olivia_


	8. Chapter 8

She sits in a lumpy green chair (the hospital's idea of comfy, she's sure), head in her hands. She tries to focus on Sam Waterston's voice that blares from a crackly television in the corner, courtesy of a _Law & Order_ marathon. But she can't seem to escape reality, no matter how hard she tries.

She's been trying for the last half an hour to get him to leave, but he won't. Instead, he sits there, quiet and pensive. The only time he's spoken was when he offered her a lukewarm coffee from the cafeteria. She refused it with a wave of her hand; she wasn't sure her stomach could handle the brown sludge.

She can't get the taste of bourbon out of her mouth. She's only tried it once when Maddie thrust it into her hand the night of her 21st, but right now it's overwhelming, and she can't breathe without the scent filling her nostrils, burning her lungs. She wonders if it's her father's drink of choice because he wants to punish himself.

It's been an hour since they hauled him in (or Rick did, rather). Her limbs felt heavy, sluggish, like she'd been the one drinking. She'd barely had the strength to walk through the ER doors.

"Ms. Beckett?" Kate lifts her head from her hands, dizzy. She waits for her eyes to adjust to the fuzzy doctor before she attempts to rise from the chair.

"How is he?" She winces at the sound of her voice, dry, cracked, and broken. She sees Castle out of the corner of her eye, watches him hesitate before he places a gentle hand on her arm. She clenches her fist at her side, doesn't want his pity disguised as comfort.

Still, she won't shake his grasp.

"Your father has severe alcohol poisoning."

No shit.

"We started him on intravenous fluids and we've put him on breathing support. He's still unconscious, but once he wakes up, we'll remove the ventilator."

She runs a hand through her hair, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "How long before he wakes up?"

The doctor grimaces. "It's hard to say. We'll be monitoring him closely, but we probably won't see much change until the morning." He hesitates. "Ms. Beckett, how long has your father been an alcoholic?"

She swallows hard. "It's been almost four years now, since my mother passed."

"The damage to your father's liver is fairly severe. If he doesn't get some professional help, he's gonna be an excellent candidate for a liver transplant before the year is up."

Kate sucks in a breath as her vision starts to blur again.

"When can I see him?"

"We'll take you to him now if you'd like." The doctor holds out his arm, gestures for her to follow him outside the waiting room.

She shrugs out of Rick's grasp, stares straight ahead at the doctor. "Please go home, Castle." She follows the doctor, leaves Rick in the wake of her tornado.

* * *

><p>Kate steps into the private room, her senses overwhelmed by bright, flickering fluorescent lights. Her eyes buzz loudly and she thinks this is what a seizure must feel like. A wave of nausea hits her when her eyes find her father, pale and gaunt. She cups a hand over her mouth and flies to the bathroom, stumbling over her own feet.<p>

She heaves, coughing violently over the toilet for a moment. She wipes the back of her hand over her mouth and slips slowly to the floor, laying her hot cheek on the cold tile, breathing deeply. Her senses are still on overload, so she crawls to the door and reaches up, grabbing the doorknob for stability, and flicks the light off. She sighs and collapses back down to the floor, twisting away from the doorway.

She isn't sure how long she lays there, eyes closed; for her, time stopped the minute she stepped into the living room. She feels the light in the room dim suddenly, obtruded by something. Or _someone_.

Her eyes flick open to see Castle's silhouette towering over her.

He sighs. "Oh, Kate." He shuffles into the bathroom and settles down onto the floor, propped against the pipes that run under the porcelain sink. He reaches for her without hesitation this time, brushes a hand across her forehead, through her hair.

"I thought I told you to leave." Her tone is biting and harsh.

"You didn't mean it."

"Oh, but I did." She pushes his hand away, frowning. "I don't need your pity, Castle."

"You're hurting, you and your father both, and I want to help. I don't pity you, Kate, so please, for God's sake, get that out of your head."

"You don't know all of it."

"I don't care. It won't change anything, Kate."

He can't be certain of that, she thinks, but she doesn't have the strength to argue with him now. She doesn't say anything, just tilts her head away from him, digging her fingernails into the cracks of the linoleum. "I just want this to be over," she whispers.

"I know." She feels him wrap his arms around her body, pulls her gently towards him, placing her head in his lap. "Is this okay?"

Always a gentleman.

She nods, slowly. His hand brushes across her head, gently pushing her hair from her forehead. The motions are rhythmic, soothing. Her mother used to do the same when Kate was little, her movements lulling her into a deep slumber.

They sit there for minutes, hours-she isn't sure. She hovers somewhere in a state of consciousness when she feels him slip his hand from her head, settling onto her shoulder.

"You ready to see him?" he asks quietly.

She sighs, curls her body into a ball. "Not yet."

"Okay," he breathes. He rests his warm palm on the outside of her thigh, tracing circles on the leg of her jeans.

"Will you tell me about her?" she asks quietly, slipping her clasped hands between her thighs. She's cold now.

"My daughter?" He's surprised, but almost pleasantly so. She knows he expected it to come up in a fight or a heady conversation, but she does this on purpose. Maybe if they expose themselves, they can forget that they've started a relationship (if you can call it that) on secrets and half-truths.

"Yeah."

"Her name's Alexis. She's seven and brilliant," he says without a hint of humor, only reverence and awe for his little girl.

She manages a small laugh. "Don't all parents say that about their children?"

"Probably, but I'm the only one telling the truth," he says defensively.

"Is that so?" she teases.

"I taught her to read before she was five, you know. And she's got this knack for people skills. She's an excellent judge of character."

"You must be a great dad."

"Her mother…she left us when Alexis was young. My mother and I are all she really has, so I try really hard not to screw her up." His tone is light, but she hears the distress lurking beneath the surface.

"I'm sure you do just fine. She sounds pretty special."

"Maybe….one day the two of you can meet." She hears his voice waver, knows he's scared to push her too far. But she hears him loud and clear: I'm not going anywhere.

"Yeah." She rests her hand on top of his, halting his movements.

She squeezes gently. "Maybe."

* * *

><p><em>It's pretty short, but I wanted to get it out. I've been in a bit of a funk the last few days, so this was a bit cathartic. Some of it is exhaustion, no doubt. Staying up late to finish this probably wasn't the best idea. What can I say? It's a vicious cycle.<em>

_On a lighter note, if you celebrate Valentine's Day, I hope you had a good one. My mama sent me a package of candy (including some Necco wafers ;) ). I'll have another chapter up by the close of the weekend, no doubt._

_Enjoy your week. _

_Olivia_


	9. Chapter 9

She works up the nerve about an hour later, somewhere between Alexis' 5th and 6th birthdays.

"I'll be in the waiting room," he promises as she rises shakily to her feet, bracing herself against the sink. She breathes deeply and flicks the faucet on. Her body is cold, aches from lying on the linoleum for so long. She flinches as she shoves her hands under the spigot and splashes cold water against her face. She reaches for a towel and pats her face dry.

"You can stay," she says softly, his words finally registering. Her brain is still a little slow, her head still sluggish and heavy. She's tired and anxious, but she knows she also won't get much sleep tonight, even if she manages to convince a nurse to let her sleep on one of their extra cots.

"You sure?" he asks, rubbing the back of her neck with his palm. She closes her eyes, reveling in the ease with which his warm hand soothes the tension in her body.

"Mmm," she mumbles in response. He lets his hand travel down her back, lightly caressing the grooves in her spine before falling slack to his side. She groans. "I might make you do that again later." He chuckles.

She sighs, pries her hands away from the edges of the sink. She thinks maybe it would be better to just rip it off like a band-aid, get in, pull up a chair and just sit and _be_. But her body is resisting and it feels like forever until she even makes it to the doorway of the bathroom.

Castle's behind her, patient and calm and wordless, and God she doesn't deserve him. If she were him, she'd be running for the hills and never looking back.

Of course, she'd always been a coward.

She runs a hand along the wall as she makes her way toward the bed. Her fingers brush a light switch, flicking off the light that illuminates his face. She sags in relief. She can still make out his form—the light on the other side is still on—but maybe she can delay reality for just a little longer.

There are no chairs, she realizes with dismay. Poor planning on her part. She's really not sure how long her feet will support her before they buckle under her emotional baggage. Castle must sense the way she tenses as she approaches the railing of his bed because he races out of the room and comes back seconds later with a swiveling office chair. She wonders how long it'll be before someone notices its absence.

"Thanks," she rasps, falling slowly into the seat. She scoots closer to the bed, lets her hand rest beneath the railing, against the rough texture of his sheets. She lets out a breath and clenches her fist, letting her eyes travel the full length of his body. If she ignores the tube shoved down his throat, she can almost fool herself into thinking that he's sleeping. She slides her hand toward his, shivering as it brushes over the IV tape, yellowed from his blood.

"Dad," she whispers, biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering. "I need you to wake up, okay?" She forces her eyes away from his face and they land on the watch that adorns his other wrist.

The one her mother bought him for their 15th wedding anniversary.

She chokes on a sob. "I can't do this without you. You're all I have left." She shakes her head, letting her tears drip onto her jeans.

"She had no choice, Dad, but you do. And…" she trails off, takes a shuddering breath. "I'm not sure I can forgive you if you leave me here."

She knows she won't say anything more, not until he can talk back at her (and knowing him, it will be _at_ her). She feels ridiculous talking to him while he's unconscious, but she also won't risk it, not if there's a chance that he'll hear her.

"I'll see if the nurse will get you a cot." Castle's voice sounds off—a little raspy, too quiet. She shifts in her chair to get a read on him, but he's already out the door, surely ready to switch on the charm.

* * *

><p>"You should go home," she says wearily, sitting on the edge of the makeshift bed, blanket folded down. She kicks off her shoes and presses the soles of her feet with her thumb, sighing a little.<p>

He doesn't argue and she knew he wouldn't. He's done enough already, too much maybe, for a woman he's only known a few days.

"Is there anything you need?"

She starts to shake her head, but pauses. "Would you mind calling the Shack, canceling my shift? I'd call them myself, but there's no one there now and I have no idea what my morning will be like tomorrow."

"I'll have my phone on me if you decide you need anything else, even if it's just a decent cup of coffee."

She manages a small smile, grabs his hand and tugs gently, pulling him closer to her.

"Thank you, Castle. This…" she trails off, shakes her head. "It means a lot. I'll never be able to repay you."

"No one should have to do this alone, Kate." He brushes a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear before pressing a palm to her cheek. She sighs and leans into it, closing her eyes.

He presses a kiss to her temple.

"I'll call you," she promises.

He nods, smiles. "I'll be waiting by the phone," he teases. She smiles, rolls her eyes.

"Good night, Rick."

"Til then, Kate."

She watches him leave before letting her body succumb to the rough white sheets of the cot that remind her of the 50 cent rolls of generic toilet paper her grandmother used to buy. She makes a face and pulls her legs up, shoving a hand under the pillow.

She burrows under the thin fleece blanket, eyes heavy.

She sighs. Maybe she'll sleep tonight, after all.

* * *

><p><em>Short. Hadn't planned on updating until Saturday or Sunday (I'll certainly post another one then), but when the mood hits, it hits. It's 3:23 a.m. and this is all Emma's fault. <em>

_Ha. No, seriously. She's great, though. Whenever I have a long conversation with her, I always just wanna go home and write. It's great._

___Olivia_


	10. Chapter 10

She'd always been a light sleeper, can hardly remember a time when she didn't wake to the sound of the radiator kicking on or her mother's late night trips to the bathroom. She rarely sleeps through the night because her body is instantly alert at the sound of a penny dropping. She thinks maybe that's why she'll make a good cop, hopes she will anyway.

Her eyes flit open, adjusting to the _very_ early sun as she hears rustling not far from her ear.

Dad.

She throws her covers off, rubbing her eyes, and steps close to his bedside. His eyes flicker in his sleep and she's sure he's moments away from waking up. She presses the call button on the wall, her heart picking up speed. She sets her hand on top of his, warm and waiting. He looks a little better, not as lifeless, and she thinks things really do look better in the light of the morning.

A young nurse flies in just as his eyes slowly flutter open. She flies out again, almost comically, and calls for the doctor.

His eyes widen in panic, shifting anxiously over the tubes and wires that decorate his body.

"Dad, you're in the hospital. Just try to stay calm, okay? The doctor will be in a minute." She squeezes his hand gently, blinking back relieved tears. He nods tensely, squeezes her hand back. She smiles.

"Mr. Beckett, nice to see you awake. You gave your daughter quite a scare." Kate turns her head to see the same doctor she'd met last night, smiling tightly. She watches her father visibly deflate, clearly distraught.

"When can you remove the ventilator?" she asks quickly. She can admonish him later, in private, after he's feeling better. She has no desire to upset him now, only moments after he's regained consciousness.

"We can do it now." The doctor hands her father's chart to the nurse and slips into a pair of gloves. "You'll experience some discomfort, Mr. Beckett. Try to relax. It'll probably be a little hard to breathe after we get it out, but that'll pass."

"Squeeze my hand if you need to," she says, flashing him a reassuring smile.

He coughs, spluttering and gagging, as they manage to get it out of him. He opens his mouth to speak, but his voice fails him.

"Your vocal cords have been under a bit of strain, sir. We'll get you some water, but for now, just focus on resting. Your body's been through quite a bit. I'll be back in a few hours to talk to you about your recovery, okay?"

Jim nods wearily.

The doctor turns to Kate. "I should be back around ten at the latest. If you need anything else before then, the nurse can page the on-call doctor."

"Thank you."

He leaves and Kate's at a loss for words, doesn't even know where to start. She opens her mouth to say something, but her words fail her. His eyes are sympathetic, almost apologetic—she isn't sure.

"Here you go, Mr. Beckett." Kate lets out a little relieved sigh as the nurse bustles in, Styrofoam cup and straw in hand. "It'll be a while before you can eat, but you're probably not very hungry anyway, are you?" She sets the cup and stray on the portable tray.

He shakes his head.

She smiles sympathetically, brushing her red hair out of her eyes. "My name's Ronnie. Just let me know if you need anything. I'm usually just right outside the hall, but if your daughter can't find me, well, everybody knows how to push a button, right?"

Kate smiles politely at Ronnie's attempt at humor, watches her walk out of the room, humming to herself. Kate rolls her eyes.

"Water?" she asks, sticking the straw through the lid and offering him the cup.

He nods gratefully and takes a sip, wincing as the cold liquid slides down his throat. He coughs a little, face contorted in discomfort.

"What happened, Katie?" he rasps.

She freezes. Of course he wouldn't remember. He'd blacked out, lost consciousness. She should've seen it coming, should've realized that she'd have to relive the nightmare out loud. She opens her mouth to tell him that it can wait, that they don't have to talk about this now, but she knows it's futile. She didn't exactly get her stubbornness from her mother.

She sighs and pulls up the office chair that Castle had stolen from the nurse's station. She wraps an elastic around her dirty hair and takes a deep breath.

"I went out with Castle last night, do you remember that?" He nods.

"When I came home, you were sitting in your chair with the television on. I tried to wake you so you could go to bed, but, uh…." She purses her lips, shakes her head.

"You wouldn't wake up. I found an empty bottle of bourbon on the floor and tried to call for help, but the phones were down. Castle drove us here, stayed til I went to sleep." God, she wouldn't have made it through the night without that man.

"Anyway, the doctor said you had severe alcohol poisoning, which I assumed. So here we are." Her hands grip the arms of the chair tightly, knuckles white. She'd expected to be upset telling the story again, sure, but she hadn't expected her irritation and frustration to resurface so soon.

He lets his head hit the pillow, closing his eyes. He scrubs a hand over his face and frowns.

He shakes his head. "I'm so sorry," he croaks.

"I just—" She sighs. "I don't understand, Dad. An entire bottle in a few hours? What the hell were you thinking? What triggered…" Her voice trails off and a shiver trips down her spine, realization smacking her face.

"Oh, God. It was because of our fight, wasn't it? Before I left, we—but, you—Oh, Dad. I didn't mean to—"

He shakes his head fiercely, cutting her off. He takes another sip of his water, wincing a little less this time. "No, Kate. Not your fault. Mine."

Tears fill her eyes. She rests her head in her hands. "Dad, you—you have to get help, okay? I can't do this anymore." She lifts her head, meets his teary gaze.

"Please don't make me do this anymore," she whispers.

He nods, tears dripping from his eyes. "Dear God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He chokes on a sob and she reaches for him, buries her face in his neck as his arms wrap around her weakly.

"We'll get through this, Dad. We have to." She takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Mom wouldn't want this for us."

He squeezes her just a little tighter and she thinks maybe they'll both be okay after all.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, and she's home again. She tried to insist that she'd stay another night, sleep on the cot again, but her father had been adamant. They both knew he'd sleep through the night and there was no need for her to toss and turn another night. He was out of the woods and would make a full recovery.<p>

She finds her phone lying on the counter, realizing that she'd never taken it with her, not even after Castle dropped it off. She scrolls through her messages, finds an unopened one from him.

_Just checking in to see how things are. Managed to get you a few days off work. Let me know if you need anything. –RC_

She smiles, alight with his consideration. She'll have to make it up to him somehow.

She checks the time, the wheels turning in her mind. Hmm.

She sets her phone down and rushes to the bathroom, stripping her clothes off, hurrying before it gets to be too late.

* * *

><p>An hour later she's knocking on his door, hair damp and grocery bags in hand. He swings the door open, propping himself against the frame, lazy in ruffled hair, jeans, and a plaid shirt. He smiles in delighted surprise.<p>

"Kate. What are you doing here?"

She shifts, a little nervous. "I, uh—thought. Um." She shakes her head, laughs nervously at her inability to form coherent sentences. She huffs. "Dinner?"

He laughs lightly and pushes the screen door open, an invitation for her to come in. He grabs her arm gently as she brushes past him, halting her steps. He's close, so close.

"Hi." He grins lopsidedly.

"Hi," she says breathlessly. She sets the bags down on the floor, never letting her eyes stray from his face.

She steps closer, pressing a palm to his cheek. "Thank you," she says softly. She leans in and kisses him gently. He wraps his arms around her waist as she pulls away, crushing him in a tight embrace.

"Oh, Kate," he breathes against her hair.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope everyone enjoys Linchpin. If you haven'tfeel so inclined, I've written a Post-Ep for Pandora (titled _Recovery)_ that you can find on my page.**

**Olivia**


	11. Chapter 11

"Can I help?" His voice tickles her ear as he places a hand against her back. She shivers a little, hopes her reaction to him never goes away.

She smiles, shakes her head. "I'm almost done. Pasta's gotta cook for another minute or so. You can see if the bread's done." She tilts her head towards the stove where she'd popped in a few slices of Texas Toast.

She'd been able to maneuver herself around his kitchen easily. It resembled her house in most ways, with the exception of a few upgrades he'd made to the appliances, like the extra oven that was encased in the other wall.

"Did Mike give you a hard time?" she asks, eyes on the boiling pot as she stirs. He doesn't answer. She frowns and flicks her eyes to him, but his back is turned as he opens the oven door.

"Castle…" she trails off, a warning. She taps the edge of the spoon against the pot and lets it clatter gently to the counter.

He sighs, pulls the oven mitt from his hand and tosses it into the drawer in front of him. "Yeah, he gave me a hard time."

She nods, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip. "But I still have my job?"

"Yes."

She narrows her eyes. "Do I want to know?"

He shakes his head, almost comically. "I don't think so." Her lips twitch in amusement as she stifles a small laugh. He steps closer to her, leans his long body against the counter, watching her.

"What is it, Castle?" She flicks the stove off and grabs the pot gently, pouring the noodles into a strainer.

"Can I ask you something? Promise not to be upset?" he asks gently.

"I guess. Not making any promises though," she teases.

"Why do you put up with it? Why not just leave? Surely it's not the only job around here that you can get."

She lets out a breath and hands him a plate. "Make yourself a plate," she says softly. He starts to back away, recoiling reluctantly, but she grasps the edges of his fingers before he misunderstands. She isn't dismissing him, but doesn't want to have the conversation that will inevitably lead to _the_ conversation while she putzes around his kitchen. She lifts his palm to her mouth and presses a kiss against it.

* * *

><p>"I didn't always work at the Shack. I used to work with my Dad, helped him fix up these houses," she says, brushing breadcrumbs from her mouth.<p>

"What changed?" His body is angled towards hers, their knees brushing against each other under the wooden table.

"It just…became too much after she died. The looks, the whispers. I don't always know everyone that comes into the restaurant, but these people…" she trails off, shakes her head. "I couldn't escape them."

"Kate, you don't have to—"

"I want to, Castle. You've been..." She takes a deep breath and meets his curious gaze. "You've been really great to me and to my dad. You know, I-I lied to you and you just let it roll off your back. You deserve to know."

She looks away, fixes her stare on a crack in the ceiling. The words haven't even crossed her lips and she can already feel the lump forming in her throat, the tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She takes a moment to breathe—just _breathe _—and he lets her, doesn't say a word.

Her fingers fly to the hem of her shirt, fiddling with the seam.

_You remind me of your mother when you do that._

She pulls her hands away reluctantly, lets them slide over the fabric of her jeans. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"My mother was murdered, Rick." Her words are hoarse, but they're there, floating in the air between them. His lips part slightly and she swears she hears him gasp a little, but then his fingers twitch on the table, fighting the urge to comfort.

"That must be some kind of hell." There's an apology in there somewhere, but she's so tired of hearing the _I'm sorry_. His words are true, raw, and exactly what she needs.

"More for my father than me, I think."

"I don't know about that."

She raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He hesitates. "I just…I'm not saying what he's doing is right, but I think he's at least acknowledging his pain in some way." He pauses. "Are you?"

Well, shit. She hadn't expected the line of questioning to end up _here_.

"I don't talk about it," she says slowly. "But I wouldn't be in the Police Academy if it weren't for her."

"You think it'll help?"

She shrugs. "I don't know, but I'm not sure I care. I just…I _need_ to know how this happened. I'm gonna find the son of a bitch who took my mother from us." She's firm, resolute.

"You gotta do what you gotta do."

Hmm. He's treading lightly, doesn't want to step on her toes, but she hears everything he isn't saying. "You think I should let it go, don't you?"

"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair, purses his lips. "She's your mother, Kate, and I would never...I would never pretend to know what it must be like to live with this every day. I just think it would be really easy to let it define you, define your life."

He sighs, rubs a hand over the stubble on his chin. "But I also think you're incredibly strong and if anyone could do it, could come out of it alive as a whole being, it would be you."

Her head spins, his words clawing and grappling with her. She doesn't know what to say, just sits as she watches his face freeze in anxiety at her silence.

He shakes his head, lets his bangs fall into his eyes. "This is why you didn't tell me. I'm overstepping." He groans. "Mouth, meet foot."

She laughs lightly and the tension starts to slide away.

"No—it—I asked. Don't apologize, Rick. It's…something to think about," she concedes, nodding.

"For what it's worth, I think you'd make a hell of a cop."

She blushes. "Thanks. That's…sweet."

He grins and she can't help but smile, loves how infectious his happiness can be.

* * *

><p>"I should really get going," she says as she dries the last of their dinner dishes. He finishes wiping down the counter and tosses the sponge into the sink. He rests his palms against the edge of the sink, trapping her. She rolls her eyes, amused, and hooks a finger in the belt loop of his jeans.<p>

"I could so take you, you know."

"Promise?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows. She laughs, lets her hand slide up to his chest. He covers it with his own. "Stay for a little while. We can camp out and watch a movie or something."

"As tempting as that sounds, I should get to the hospital early so I can be there when he wakes up. Hopefully he'll be discharged tomorrow. Can I see you Thursday?"

"I would love that, but…" he trails off, frowning. He brushes a hand through her hair, pulls on it gently as his fingers slip through her strands to cup the side of her face.

"I'm going back to Manhattan on Thursday, Kate."

But—

_Oh._

He _did_ say that he'd only be there a few more days.

"I'd stay, I would. God, these past couple of days…" He leans in, brushes a kiss against her forehead. "They've been incredible. But Alexis is flying back in tomorrow. While I've been here, she's been with her mother in California."

She nods, silent and still. She gets it, she does. But…

Jesus. How had she forgotten that?

"But listen, when are you coming back to the city?"

"I go back in three weeks to finish my training. I have about five weeks left."

"So I'll see you when you get back."

She nods dumbly. It's only three weeks and, hell, she's barely known him a few days. But it's a whole other world here, away from the harsh reality of the city.

"Unless, you don't want…"

She shakes her head. "No, Castle. That isn't—I didn't mean…" She sighs. "It's just that you have a _daughter._ And Manhattan sure as hell isn't some summer thing on a beach in Jersey."

"Kate, I know things will be different. They have to be. We're only a few steps away from being complete strangers, but I don't want to stop seeing you just because life _might_ get in the way."

She shakes her head, smiling. "You're right. I'm being silly."

"You're not." He swipes his thumb across her cheek and leans in, kissing her softly.

But it's over all too quickly as he pulls his lips from hers. She frowns.

"What?"

"That's a pretty lousy goodbye kiss, Richard Castle," she scolds.

He laughs, full and rich. "My apologies."

She opens her mouth, ready with a quick retort, before he cuts her off, pressing his mouth hotly against hers.

She sighs, clutching his bicep for support.

Oh, it was going to be a long three weeks indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>Although I have a general idea of where this is going, I don't have everything plotted out. It isn't finished yet, though. Enjoy your week.<strong>

**Olivia**


	12. Chapter 12

"Beckett! Take your lunch." She whips her head around towards Mike, blowing her bangs out of her face. She nods once and clears the rest of a family of four's fish and chips lunch.

She sighs, wipes her greasy hands on the apron. She pulls her cell out of her pocket and walks back to the kitchen. She shoves the phone between her ear and shoulder as she pulls a loaf of bread and a pack of turkey from the refrigerator.

She steps around a short-order cook, grabbing a paper plate from the cupboard as she waits for him to pick up.

"Still sober, Katie," he answers on the fourth ring. She purses her lips, closing her eyes. She tosses two slices of bread onto the plate with a sigh.

"I'm glad you can joke about this, Dad."

"You really need to lighten up."

She rolls her eyes. It's been two days since she's gone back to work, three since her father had left the hospital, and four since the last time she'd seen Castle.

But who was counting, really?

"It's just been a long morning, Dad. You need me to bring anything home?" She asks around a mouthful of turkey.

"We need a few things from the store, but I'll pick them up on the way home from my meeting."

_Shit_. She'd forgotten that his AA meeting was today.

"Right. I'll be home in a few hours. Call me if you need anything, okay?" She can't keep the worry out of her voice, doesn't even bother to try.

"It's gonna be fine, Kate," he reassures her. She nods, hopes so. "That's not all this is about though, is it?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighs. "You should call him."

"Dad…" she warns.

"Don't 'Dad' me. I know you haven't talked to him since he left. _Call_ him."

"He has a phone too, you know." She sounds ridiculous and petty and she knows it. "I probably scared him off." She laughs bitterly.

"_Or_ he's trying to give you space. Christ, Kate. I was in the hospital when he left." She bites her bottom lip. Maybe she should call him.

"Maybe you're right," she says quietly.

"Of course I am."

She rolls her eyes and chuckles. "_Goodbye_, Dad." She hangs up the phone, shaking her head, and picks up the plate with her half-eaten sandwich on it and walks out the back door to a picnic table for employees only. There's no one around except for a 40-something townie who flicks a cigarette at her side as she leans against the building.

Her thumb hovers over his name in her phone and she suddenly isn't hungry anymore. Her stomach rolls with anxiety.

She's being ridiculous. They'd left things on a good note, a _great_ note, actually.

But maybe four days away…

No.

She presses SEND before she can change her mind again. She sighs, tucks a loose curl behind her ear. She shifts in her seat, knocking her knee against the wood of the table. She winces, grips the phone tighter in her hand.

"Fuck," she mutters.

"Kate?"

Oh. She didn't even hear him pick up.

"You okay?" he asks in amusement. She lets out a little breathless laugh.

"Yeah, just a little clumsy."

"Hold on, Alexis. I—yeah, honey. Just—okay." She strains her ear, presses it tighter against the phone. She can almost make out the little girl's voice.

"Kate, I'm sorry—I gotta go."

She deflates a little. "Yeah, no—it's fine." She nods vigorously into the phone as if she can reassure him that it's okay.

"I'll call you later, okay? What time does your shift end?"

"Three, but you don't have—"

"Kate," he cuts her off and she thinks he sounds a little…exasperated?

"Okay," she says quietly. "I'll talk to you then."

"I'm glad you called." It's soft and she almost doesn't catch it before the line clicks off. She flips the phone shut on a contented sigh, lets her head fall onto her closed palm.

"Oh, honey, you got it bad." Her eyes flick to the other woman, whose eyes twinkle in amusement. Kate's mouth twitches, but she doesn't say anything.

She doesn't want to share him with the world, wants the _real_ Rick Castle to herself.

And she _especially_ wants the one who puts his daughter before a woman he'd met only a week ago.

* * *

><p>She hates that she waits by the phone all day, doesn't want to be one of <em>those <em>women. But hearing his voice for a minute after four days apart stokes the need in her.

She tries to keep herself occupied, she really does. She makes a full dinner for her and her Dad (something that she hasn't done in _ages), _catches up on _Temptation Lane_, beats the pants off her Dad in a few rounds of rummy, _and_ cleans the bathroom.

She really needs to get a grip.

"Why don't you go take a walk?" Her father suggests. She's spent the last fifteen minutes tapping her fingers against the arm of her chair as he watches some game on television.

"Don't forget your phone," he teases wryly. She glares.

She spends almost an hour walking along the beach, even stops for ice cream at the same place where she'd taken him their first night together. When she gets home, it's almost 11:00 and her father is conked out on the chair. _Breathing_, she notes on a breath. Conked out and _breathing_.

* * *

><p>When he calls, it's past midnight and she's half-asleep in her bed, one of his books perched on her chest, forgotten in her sleepy state.<p>

"Beckett," she mumbles sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"Shoot. Did I wake you?"

She burrows further under the covers, smiles at the sound of his voice.

"Mmmm. Maybe."

"I'm sorry, Kate. I meant to call you earlier, but I had a hard time getting Alexis to sleep. She's still on California time, it seems."

"It's fine, Castle."

"Still. Want me to just call you tomorrow? Or…later today, I guess it would be."

"No—I…" She hesitates, doesn't know how much she wants to fess up to already. She almost tells him she misses him, but stops herself. "Let's just talk now."

"Okay. What are you wearing?"

She laughs, startled, but pleasantly so. "Absolutely…._nothing,_" She teases.

He groans. "You're lying to me, aren't you?"

"You are far too easy, Mr. Castle."

"Tell me something I don't know."

She rustles onto her side, flicks the bedside lamp off. She tosses his book onto the floor and rolls onto her back. She sighs, closing her eyes.

"I miss you," he says quietly.

Her eyes flutter open at his admission. "I miss you, too," she admits.

"I thought I'd hear from you before today." His tone is light, but it's forced. She can hear the hurt lingering in his voice. Damn, her father was right.

"This is going to sound crazy, but I was thinking the same thing about you."

"You're right. That does sound crazy."

She huffs. "Not any crazier than you waiting for me to call."

"Your dad was in the hospital."

"_Exactly_."

"I'm not following."

"My father was in the hospital, Castle. That's my point. And then…God…what? Eighteen hours later I tell you that my mom was murdered? It's enough to scare off any man."

"I'm not _any_ man, Kate."

"I know," she says quietly.

He sighs. "Just…let's just not let this happen again, okay? I don't wanna wreck whatever this is between us because we're both too stubborn to pick up a phone."

"Yeah. All right."

"Now, back to your state of undress…"

* * *

><p>Kate's next day is hellish. She woke up in high spirits after her hour-long conversation with Castle. She'd felt closer to him than ever, and they weren't even in the same state. He told her about a few of the outings he and Alexis had been on since she arrived home, about their trip to museum where he'd been slapped with a hefty fine after knocking over a dinosaur display.<p>

"She laughed at me the whole way home," he'd whined.

"I'm sure you deserved it."

She assured him that her father seemed to be doing well, hadn't touched the bottle since his release. They'd even emptied all of the leftover bottles together. It'd been a healing experience, bringing them closer together.

After they hung up, she'd gone to bed sated and relaxed.

In the morning, she'd whipped up breakfast for two and even managed to squeeze in a run before work. She bounced into the shack on a high, ready to start the work day.

"Wipe the grin off your face, Beckett. Health Inspector comes in today," Mike grumbled. "He'll be watching like a hawk, so don't screw up today."

She'd brushed him off with an eye roll before refilling Table Four's coffee cups.

She still smiled when they handed it back to her, spitting that it was cold.

She still smiled when a group of teenagers on a cheap senior week trip managed to spill five glasses of sticky, sweet iced tea that she had to clean up _right away_ because the health inspector had all eyes on her.

She still smiled when Mike told her she couldn't take a lunch today, or even a fifteen-minute break, because they were too busy.

She stopped smiling when a three year-old lost his greasy lunch of chicken fingers and French fries all over her favorite pair of Keds.

Finally, _finally, _it's seven and time for her shift to end.

"Mike, I'm clocking out," she calls to him as she unwraps her apron.

"Not so fast, Beckett. I need you to wait on Table Five before your replacement gets here."

She purses her lips tightly as she re-ties the knot in her apron with unnecessary force. She pulls out a pad from her pocket and yanks her pencil from its spot behind her ear. She lets out a puff of air and stomps over to the table.

"What can I get for you?" she asks, flipping through the pad to find a blank sheet.

"I'll take a tall, gorgeous, brunette waitress to go."

Her heart somersaults as her eyes lift. Her cheeks flush in happiness.

"Castle," she breathes.

* * *

><p><em>I have a difficult time keeping them apart, it seems. Ah, well. <em>_Alexis will be making an appearance next chapter._

_Thanks again to everyone who messaged me after my writing meltdown at the end of "The Day of Rest". I was having a bit of a rough couple of days, but I have no plans of quitting._

_Olivia_


	13. Chapter 13

"If it's possible, I think you've only gotten more beautiful since the last time I saw you."

She rolls her eyes, laughing. "That's a line if I ever heard one."

"C'mere," he growls, getting up from his spot at the table to embrace her. She sighs, brushing a kiss across his cheek. "I'd kiss you, but with my timing, Alexis will pop out of the bathroom just in time to get an eyeful."

She blushes, pulling away from him. "Alexis is here?"

He grins. "Yeah, I picked her up a few days ago and now here we are."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "Please tell me you didn't uproot that poor girl because we can't seem to be apart for longer than a couple of days?" She raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I may have mentioned that I met a new friend, but she's been begging me to come back here for a while now. I thought she'd get the opportunity when she went to California, but Meredith never bothered to take her." He grimaces, brushes a hand over his face.

She tilts her head sympathetically, places a hand on his arm. "She'll have a good time here with you," she reassures.

"You mean with _us_."

"I'd love to meet her, Castle, but—"

He frowns. "But what?"

"Well, we haven't been dating that long and I think it's just… kind of crazy to ask your little girl to welcome me with open arms when I don't even know if I'm sticking around."

"If you're sticking _around_? What does that—"

"Dad, I'm hungry."

He barely lets his face fall at the interruption before he's all smiles. He pulls the tiny redhead into his side and kisses her forehead.

"Okay, pumpkin. We'll get you something to eat." Kate watches as Alexis's curious expression flicks between them, trying to gauge the mood she's interrupted.

"Alexis, this is my friend Kate." He brushes Alexis's hair from her head and lets his hand settle on her shoulder.

Kate smiles warmly, crouches down a little so that she's face-to-face with the seven year-old. "It's wonderful to meet you, Alexis. Your Dad talks my ear off about you _all_ the time," Kate gushes.

Alexis smiles shyly. "My Dad's pretty great."

Kate grins, her eyes flitting briefly to his face and back again. "I think so, too."

"Are you gonna eat with us?" Alexis asks.

"Honey, Kate's probably tired. She's had a long day at work."

"Actually." She gets up from her kneeling position. "I'd love to, if it's okay with you." He raises an eyebrow, confused.

She knows she's sending him mixed signals. She _just_ said that she wasn't sure if it was a good idea for the three of them to spend a lot of time together, but damn it if Alexis wasn't charming the pants off her already.

"Please, Dad?"

"Well, I can't exactly refuse the two most beautiful girls in the room, can I?" He jokes.

Alexis giggles.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else? You don't really want to hang around here, do you?" Castle asks.

She doesn't, but if Alexis is hungry…

"What do you say, Alexis? Think you can wait just a little longer? I know this great place that makes the best chocolate shakes," Kate entices.

"You're lucky I love chocolate."

Kate laughs. "I guess I am."

She unwraps her apron and pulls her hair out of its elastic.

"This place smells kinda fishy, anyway." Alexis observes, wrinkling her nose.

"Ugh. Tell me about it," Kate agrees, making a face.

She turns to Castle, flashing him a smile as he looks on in astonishment. She shrugs, as if interacting with his seven year-old is something she does daily.

"You're amazing," he says quietly.

She blushes as they step out into the blistering sun. "She's great, Rick."

He looks down at Alexis, whose attention is otherwise occupied, and beams.

"I know."

* * *

><p>"You weren't kidding. This is really yummy," Alexis says enthusiastically as she slurps her shake.<p>

"There are two things I never kid about, Alexis." Kate holds up a finger. "Chocolate." She holds up her second finger, puts on her best serious face. "And ice cream."

"Daddy doesn't like chocolate ice cream," Alexis says, throwing Rick a glare.

Kate narrows her eyes at him. "Oh, really? I seem to remember him ordering a chocolate ice cream cone about a week ago."

Alexis makes a face at him. "What's that about, Dad?"

Kate's mouth twitches with laughter, matches Alexis's curious glance. "Yeah, Castle, what's that about?" She rests her head on her palm, waits for him to dig himself out of this one.

"Way to rat me out, Alexis," he pouts. "I have a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"Uh-huh." She nods, eyes twinkling.

"We'd only just met, you see, and I didn't want to scare you with my ice cream concoctions. They can be pretty intense," he says proudly.

Kate rolls her eyes. "Please. Try me."

"I don't know if you're ready to try one of our inventions, Kate," he says dramatically.

"I am certainly not afraid of anything you Castles whip up."

He leans in towards her. "Is that a challenge?"

"Is that an invitation?" She throws back, leaning on the arm that's perched on the table.

His eyes flit to her mouth and damn it if their banter isn't the sexiest thing. Her breath catches in her throat and she swears his pupils dilate a little.

"Kid in the room," Alexis spouts nonchalantly.

Kate lets out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, breaking the spell.

"Kate and I were just having a staring contest, honey," he says, backing away from her slowly, throwing Kate a helpless look.

Oh, but watching him sink is too much fun.

Alexis rolls her eyes. "Sure."

Kate presses the back of her hand to her mouth, stifling a chuckle. He narrows his eyes. Oh, he'll get her back.

"If you're so sure of yourself, _Beckett_, then I guess you'll just have to join us for our movie night tomorrow, complete with an ice cream creation sure to knock your socks off."

"Kate, you gotta come! We just bought Shrek," Alexis says excitedly.

"I guess I can't really say no to the big ogre, can I? And Shrek sounds pretty good, too." She winks at Alexis, who giggles.

"Ouch, Beckett. That one hurt," he says, clutching his chest.

"Don't be so dramatic, Daddy. I think you've been spending too much time with Grams," Alexis teases.

"Did I miss the memo that said today was gang up on Dad day?"

Kate waves him off. "You're an easy target."

"Too easy," Alexis agrees.

"Oh, now you're walking home," he says, throwing Alexis a playfully dirty look.

Alexis shrugs. No biggie. "I'm sure Kate'll give me a ride. Wontcha, Kate?"

Kate smiles. "Definitely."

* * *

><p><strong>I have to admit that I was dreading writing Alexis, but I actually had a ton of fun writing this. If anything, she might read just a tad too old, but I really tried to channel a few seven year-olds that I know and account for the fact that Alexis has always been a bit mature for her age, so hopefully this is all right.<strong>

**Going home for break soon and for some reason I always tend to be busier between working at McDonald's (Yes, _Mcdonald's_. Sigh) and spending time with friends. I'll definitely post over break, but I'm not too sure when that'll be.**

**Have a great week.**

**Olivia**


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I doubt Andrew Marlowe worries about dropping 300 bucks for new brakes.

* * *

><p>"One movie," she promises.<p>

"Two."

She throws him a look. "One. I meant what I said earlier. You two need to spend time on your own," she says seriously, kicking her flip flops onto the mat by the door. He glances around to see if Alexis is nearby, but Kate hears her tinkering around in the living room. She'd walked out to greet Kate shyly for a moment before exclaiming that she had to finish her Lego house.

"So you meant what you said yesterday."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "Of course I did. Do I look like the type of person to go back on my word, Rick?"

He shrugs. "I was hoping you'd change your mind about—how did you put it—sticking around."

_Oh_.

Is that really what she'd said?

She softens, lets her hands fall from their defensive position. "I didn't mean it like that. I just…" she sighs. "This isn't about the two of us anymore. There's another person in the mix now, a little girl that you're responsible for. What if she gets attached and this falls apart?"

"Why are you so sure that it will?"

"That's not what I'm saying. No matter how deep our connection runs, Rick, this is still _new_. It's crazy to think about anything beyond tomorrow, or tonight, even."

"Nothing is more important to me than my little girl, Kate. Do you really think I'd let her get hurt?"

She frowns. "Then why are we even having this conversation?"

He sighs. "I don't know." She opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off. "I've watched you go through a lot since that first night that I met you, wouldn't you say?" She nods. "So it's probably safe to say that I've learned a lot about your character since then, about who you are. The point is…I _trust_ you. So if things don't work out for us in the end, I'd like to think that if Alexis _does_ become attached to you, you'd be there for her."

"I would."

"Okay then."

His eyes bore into hers as if he's waiting for something, waiting for her to argue or….

She has a feeling that this isn't what's bothering her. And, perhaps, worse of all, he knows it isn't the whole story.

But she's too tired to read too much into it and she'd probably do well to figure it out on her own. For now, she just wants to pig out on ice cream and lay her head on his shoulder while they watch a movie.

"Let's shelve this conversation for later, shall we?" he asks, reading her mind.

She lets out a breath, nods. She presses a kiss to his lips, lingering on the corners of his mouth.

"I do adore you, you know," she whispers against him.

He laughs, brushing his lips over hers. "I know you do."

"And?" She knocks her head against his playfully.

"You're not so bad yourself?" he jokes. She narrows her eyes at him and wraps her fingers around his ear, tugging.

He winces in pain. "Ow. Ouch. Okay, okay. I adore you, too." She lets go, hums in disapproval. "That was mean," he says, rubbing his ear delicately.

She huffs. He narrows his eyes. "Maybe you shouldn't be allowed to have any ice cream."

She scoffs. "There's a threat. If your creations are half of what you make them out to be, I'm not so sure I want any."

"Oh, you want some," he says suggestively, tugging her close. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "You gonna kiss me for real, or what?" she asks impatiently.

"Well, since you—" She silences him with an exasperated sigh before she melds her mouth to his. Her hands linger tentatively at his hips as his hands slide to cradle her face. He nips at her bottom lip before she slips her mouth open to brush her tongue against his.

She pulls away gently, letting her hand scrape the back of his neck affectionately. "We should probably go pop in that movie," she says softly.

"Yeah," he says breathlessly. He kisses her quickly before she follows him into the living room.

* * *

><p>"This is disgusting," she groans around a mouthful of sherbet ice cream, Oreos, chocolate sauce, and gummy bears.<p>

"It's my favorite," he pouts.

Alexis wraps her mouth around a spoonful and shrugs. "I like it." Castle throws Kate a look. See?

She shakes her head. "The combination doesn't make any sense."

"That's the point," he says, licking juice from his thumb.

Kate peers into Alexis's bowl, impressed. "There's a concoction I can get behind."

Alexis beams, adding a few sprinkles to her bowl of chocolate ice cream and Oreos.

"Chocolate and chocolate? Where's the fun in that?" he makes a face before turning to Alexis. "No offense, Pumpkin." He presses a kiss to her head.

"Sometimes simple is better," Kate defends.

He shakes his head. "Not when it comes to ice cream."

"Call me if you invent something with a little cohesion," she retorts, grabbing her own bowl of coffee ice cream and chocolate sprinkles. Alexis trails after her, red ponytail bobbing.

"Cohesion is so boring, Beckett," he calls after her as he follow them in, leaving a mess of toppings on table for them to take care of later.

Kate settles down on the couch, tucking her legs off to the side. Alexis wiggles into a huge armchair in the corner, creating an image of something out of _Alice in Wonderland_.

Rick winks at Kate before he makes his way to the chair and squats as if he's going to sit on top of Alexis.

"Dad!" she squeals.

He jumps up comically, spinning around to face his daughter. "I'm so sorry, Alexis. I almost didn't see you there." He flicks a grin back at Kate, who shakes her head, amused.

Alexis glares at him, doesn't buy it for a second. "Sure, Dad." Kate hides a laugh behind her bowl.

"She usually finds it funny," he explains to Kate as he settles down next to her.

She raises an eyebrow. "_Usually?_ How many times have you pulled that?"

He shrugs, takes a bite of his ice cream. "Only twice since we've been here."

"You've been here a day," she says slowly.

"What's your point?" he says, feigning seriousness.

Kate blinks once at him before she turns her gaze to Alexis. "Your Dad is a strange man, Alexis."

"Tell me about it," Alexis agrees, rolling her eyes.

"Shh. Ladies, I am _trying_ to watch a movie over here."

Kate throws a pillow at him.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry about the length of this one. Short chapter is better than none, though, right? Doesn't look like my break is going to be very restful, but I'll do my best to get a longer Chapter 15 to you when I can, whenever that may be.<strong>

**Olivia**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: AWM probably doesn't have to worry about incompetent doctors or collection notices, either.**

* * *

><p>How's your Dad?" he asks softly, brushing her hair from her face. She wiggles into his shoulder a little more, getting comfortable. She looks over at Alexis and smiles, the light from the television flickering over her sleeping form. She'd conked out about three quarters into Shrek, crashing after her ice cream rush.<p>

She shrugs. "Seems to be doing okay. He goes to AA every other day now."

"I meant to call, see how he's doing, but I didn't want to overstep."

She looks up at him, scraping his chin lightly with her fingertips. "I think he'd like that, actually," she says softly.

He smiles. "Yeah?"

She nods, lets her hand drop from his face. She presses a kiss to his chest, through his plaid shirt that's quickly becoming her favorite shirt on him. "I can never thank you enough."

"It was an emergency, Kate. Don't give me more credit than I deserve."

She shakes her head. "You stayed, even after I told you to go. That means something to me, Castle."

He slips his hand down her arm to thread their fingers against her thigh. He squeezes gently. "I'm just glad that I could be there for you."

"Me too."

She lets her eyes slip to television as a _Cosby Show_ rerun starts. She hums contentedly as his thumb traces lazy circles on the back of her hand.

It isn't long before she feels herself pulled into sleep, lulled by the motions of his hand and the comforting, repetitive laugh track that echoes on a loop from the television.

* * *

><p>"Kate." She feels him shake her gently. "Kate."<p>

"Hmm. Cas, go away. Tryin' to sleep," she mumbles stubbornly. She feels his deep chuckle rumble in his chest.

"Kate, you can't sleep on the couch all night. We have a guest room. Come on."

"Shouldn't sleep in the guest room. Give Alexis…wrong idea." Her brain is fuzzy, addled with sleep, and she really isn't sure what she's just said.

"That's crazy," he negates.

"Don't call me crazy," she huffs, finally letting her eyes slide open.

He sighs. "I'm not calling you crazy, but it's almost 2 in the morning. You don't want to wake your Dad up, do you?"

She glares at him. "As opposed to doing the walk of shame at seven in the morning?" She rolls her eyes. "No thank you."

He frowns. "Nothing happened."

She groans. "That won't matter." She removes her tangled limbs from his and brushes her hair out of her face.

"Kate…"

"Rick…" she trails off, eyes flicking over to Alexis and back to him. They've just had this argument for Christ's sake, and she's not doing this again now when his kid is asleep a few feet away. He's pushing this and she isn't sure why, but it's neither the time nor the place.

"Okay," he concedes. She gets up from her spot on the couch and shuffles sluggishly to the kitchen. She slips on her shoes as he watches intently, perched against the counter. She rises to lean against the door, pressing her cheek against the chilled glass as she examines him.

"This is starting to feel like déjà vu," she says.

"I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "I'm assuming something about our arrangement is bothering you, but I'm not a mind reader, Castle."

He sighs, scrubs a hand down his face.

"It's late. Go tuck your daughter in and we'll talk soon." She presses a palm to his cheek and brushes her mouth against the other.

He winces. "Soon?" He hates the uncertainty, the unpredictability. It's written all over his face. But she meant what she said earlier and she isn't backing down, either.

She tilts her head, almost sympathetic. She lets out a breath and reaches for him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "Soon," she breathes.

He nods and she thinks—hopes—he breathes a little easier.

She unwraps herself from him reluctantly and places a hand on the doorknob. "Tell Alexis I had a great time and that I'll see her soon," she emphasizes, a hint to let him know that she really isn't going anywhere.

He smiles. "Okay."

* * *

><p>As it happens, "soon" isn't the next day or the day after, either. She isn't avoiding him, not really, but she does want to give him the time to really figure out what he's afraid of.<p>

So she spends the next couple of days at the Shack and even ventures out to visit her Dad at a few of the jobs he's on. It isn't as painful as she'd imagined and the sting almost dissipates by the time she makes it home.

She bumps into him on the morning of the third day as she runs an early morning errand to pick up eggs and milk for breakfast. She's a little sleepy after her late night with her book and she's only got a pair of grey shorts on and an old white tank. Her hair is thrown into a low ponytail at the base of her skull.

Her cart bumps into his as she makes a last minute impulse venture into the cookie aisle.

"Oh, I'm so—" She looks up and finds a very familiar pair of blue eyes. "Sorry," she finishes.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hey." Her eyes flick around, searching for the bright-eyed redhead.

"She's at home in bed. One of the neighbors is looking in on her. She had a late night, so I thought I'd let her sleep."

She smiles. "Good night?"

"Yeah, it was," he says quietly, not offering any more. He clears his throat and shifts his gaze away from her to the selection of Oreos in front of him. She watches curiously as he pulls a random pack from the second shelf, almost without even glancing at it. She sees it for what it is: a distraction from her.

He turns back to her, forces a small smile. "I should get back." He grips the handle of the cart tightly, moves to brush past her. She sighs, reaches a hand out to grip his arm to stop him.

"I wasn't blowing you off, Castle. I really was going to call. It's just..." she shakes her head. "The other night—you're pushing this, us and Alexis, and there's a reason for it. I don't know what it is, but it's there. So I gave you some space and time to work it out." She shrugs. "You can't really blame me for that, can you?"

He sighs. "No, I guess not."

"Why don't you and Alexis come over for dinner tonight? I'm sure my Dad can entertain her for a few minutes while we talk, anyway."

He shakes his head. "I can't."

She's trying to understand, she really is, but now he's really starting to frustrate her. "Rick—"

"No, it's just—I promised Alexis we'd go to the carnival tonight. She's been looking forward to it for days." He grins and she feels the tension slip from her shoulders. "Why don't you come with us?"

She scrunches her nose. "A carnival? A little cheesy, wouldn't you say?"

"I'll buy you cotton candy. Maybe even let you ride the Ferris Wheel with me."

She rolls her eyes. "How romantic."

"A ruggedly handsome man with his arms wrapped around you under the stars doesn't sound romantic?" He pouts.

"Hmm. And Alexis?"

He shrugs. "I'll sit in the middle."

"An offer I can't refuse," she says wryly.

"You'll love it," he promises. She probably will, too.

"You're very sure of yourself, Mr. Castle," she says, stepping closer to him.

He gives her a lopsided grin. "Just optimistic."

She hums, eyes shining, as she pretends to mull over his proposal.

"Throw in a funnel cake and you've got yourself a deal."

He lets his hands linger at her hips. "A deal, huh? How do we, uh, seal this deal?" His lips twitch in amusement and she knows he doesn't expect her to kiss him there, in the middle of the grocery store at seven o'clock in the morning.

But a moment later she finds her lips on his anyway, kissing him gently.

"Such a nice way to start my morning," he teases, pressing a palm to her face. She grabs his wrist and presses a kiss to his hand.

"Hmm. Don't get used to it."

* * *

><p>She raps on his door, zipping her grey sweatshirt over her white tee. It's a nice night, a little breezy, but the perfect night for a carnival.<p>

The door creaks open to reveal Alexis, who's practically bouncing with excitement, her red pigtails bobbing anxiously.

"Kate!" she squeals, pushing the screen door open.

"Hey!" Kate laughs as the girl waves her in dizzily.

"Dad told me to let you in. He's still getting ready," she says on an impatient sigh.

Kate rolls her eyes. "Such a girl sometimes."

"See if you get any funnel cake," he jokes as he steps into the kitchen on a smile, pocketing his keys. Kate's breath catches in her throat as her eyes skim the length of his chest, tight in a black muscle tee.

His eyes find hers, smirking, and she ducks her head, blushing.

"You okay, Kate? You're kinda red," Alexis observes.

She laughs lightly, her face delightfully warm. "Just a little warm in this sweatshirt, Alexis," she fibs.

"Well, take it off, silly."

"It's kind of chilly outside. Are you gonna be warm enough in that?" She gestures to the blue polka dot dress that adorns the redhead.

Alexis shrugs.

"Go grab a sweater, Pumpkin."

Alexis sighs. "And _then_ can we leave?"

Rick laughs. "Then we'll leave."

She speeds off down the hallway, flip flops flapping noisily against the hardwood.

"You really do look great in that shirt," Kate observes, almost sadly. The temptation to slide it over his head to see what he looks like without it on is great.

He lets out a breathless, surprised laugh. She feels her cheeks redden again. She rarely speaks without filtering more thoroughly. Although, with the way he's looking at her now, maybe it's something she should do more often.

"Okay, I'm ready!" Alexis shouts as she scampers towards them, red sweater gripped in her small hand.

Rick's eyes linger on hers a moment longer before he turns to Alexis and takes her free hand in his.

"Ready, Freddy?" he asks, grinning.

"Let's go, Joe!"

Kate laughs, a mixture of confusion and amusement, as he ushers the three of them out the door and into the night.

* * *

><p><strong>Back to school for me, tomorrow.<strong>

**Review?**

**Olivia**


	16. Chapter 16

"You're going down," she challenges with a glint in her eye, arm poised and ready like a pro.

He narrows his eyes. "Oh, no. _You're_ going down."

She laughs in disbelief. "I'm the cop—"

"—in training—" he interjects.

"You're just a writer," she bites, feigning disgust.

"Your words wound me, Beckett. I always win at Darts."

"Can you two just go, please? I really want to ride the Ferris Wheel," Alexis huffs impatiently. Kate suppresses a laugh. Rick reaches out to ruffle her hair with his free hand.

"Sure thing, Pumpkin. We'll go as soon as I finish whupping Kate," he says, throwing Kate a look.

Without warning, Kate tosses a dart towards a small balloon in the board; it pops easily. Her hands perch on her hips as she raises an eyebrow at him as if to say, 'See?'

He scoffs. "That was an easy one," he dismisses. He throws a dart towards a pink balloon in the corner, but it misses and catches the corkboard instead.

Kate claps once, laughing full and rich behind her hands. The game vendor looks on amusement.

"Kate's much better at this than you are, Dad," Alexis says bluntly.

Rick makes a face. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

Alexis shrugs. "She's the one who gets a prize."

"Which one would you like, Alexis?" Kate asks.

"Can I have the dinosaur?"

The vendor hands her a plush green dinosaur that Alexis traps happily in the crook of her arm.

"Think your ego can handle another round, Castle?" Kate asks, slipping the vendor a couple more ones.

"It just slipped," he defends hotly.

Unfortunately for him, it "slipped" a second time, too.

"I'll take the panda bear in the corner."

Once the vendor slips it to her, she hands it to Castle. "For you," she teases.

He frowns. "Somehow it doesn't seem as sweet coming from you." He grudgingly accepts the gift, lets the bear dangle at his side, clutching a paw.

She tangles her fingers in his and knocks against his side gently. She looks down at Alexis and offers a hand to her, too. Alexis smiles shyly (God, it hits her right in the heart—in a good way) and slips her hand in Kate's.

"Ferris wheel, Lex? I think your father's been beaten enough for one night," she teases, referring to earlier when she'd beaten his ski-ball score _and_ sunk more free-throws than him.

"He has had a bad night," Alexis agrees, throwing Rick a pitying look. Kate turns back to him, grinning.

"Are we getting on this Ferris wheel or what?" he grumbles comically, leading them away from the games. Kate turns back to Alexis and they exchange rolled eyes, giggling behind their occupied hands.

* * *

><p>"Bit of a tight squeeze," Kate observes, shifting uncomfortably in the red car. "Alexis, are you completely squished over there?" She asks, leaning around Rick.<p>

Alexis shrugs and turns her attention back to the open sky, observing silently. Her body is still, peaceful. Kate's sure she's never met a seven year-old so at ease.

"She's something else," Kate admires quietly, eyes lingering on the little red-head. Rick turns to Alexis and places a kiss on top of her head.

"That she is," he agrees.

Kate sighs contentedly, burrowing into his side. She loves the way the low sun feels on her face, the way the wind brushes against her cheek. She looks out over the small town, humming appreciatively.

"It's breathtaking," she whispers.

"Mmmm. Yeah," he rasps, his breath brushing across her forehead. She looks up at him, lets her hand rustle over the hairs on his neck.

"You ready to talk yet?" she asks.

His eyes find hers and she isn't prepared for the slight sense of dread she finds there. "When we're alone," he says. "After we get back, I'll put Alexis to bed and we can talk then."

She nods, curls her fingers around his neck, a gesture for him to bow his head towards hers.

She kisses him softly, swipes her thumb over the curve of his cheek. "You're a beautiful man, you know that?"

He chuckles and her heart swells as the light finds his eyes again. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

"You can't have all the good ones."

He hums as he slides his face gently against hers to place his chin on top of hers. She lets out a breath, reveling in the feeling of her head tucked in the crook of his neck.

"You two are kinda grossing me out."

Kate chuckles as she feels his body shake with wonderful, surprised laughter. He pulls away from her reluctantly.

"Sorry, Alexis." Kate smiles sheepishly, her cheeks warm.

"I'm too irresistible for her, Pumpkin," he jokes.

By the time they're ready to leave, Alexis is worn out and passed out on Rick's shoulder as he carries her out of the grounds. Kate balances a funnel cake in one hand (for them to eat after they've put Alexis to bed), lets the stuffed animals dangle in the other.

She shivers gently, wishing she'd thought to put her jacket on earlier. It's wrapped around her waist now, but she's not about to drop everything to put it on.

He must notice because he deftly unwraps her jacket with one hand and settles it around her shoulders, flopping the hood up so that it stays.

She chuckles as she rolls her eyes, feeling ridiculous. He shrugs, grinning.

"You look adorable."

"I'm sure," she says wryly.

* * *

><p>She's licking powdered sugar from her thumb when he traipses back into the kitchen. She watches his breath visibly hitch as she releases her thumb with a soft pop.<p>

He swallows. "She's out like a light."

Kate tears off a piece of the dough, offers it to him. He grasps her wrist gently, bringing her fingers to his mouth. He slips his mouth around them, flicking his tongue over her digits.

_Oh_.

"It's good," he says with dark eyes as he gently drops her hand.

Her face is hot as she ducks her head. As her body warms under his curious gaze, she pulls her sweatshirt from her body (she took the hood off as soon as she freed her hands).

He moves to stand over her and she feels his fingers graze her chin.

"Rick…" she trails off breathlessly, eyes fluttering. She hears the scrape of a chair against the floor as he pulls it close to her. Before she has a chance to miss his light touch, he's inches from her face again, his breath mingling with hers.

"You've got some sugar right here," he rasps, brushing against the corners of her lips. She hums, doesn't really register his words. Her hands find his legs and she scrapes her nails against the denim as one of his hands slips into her hair.

"Right-right here," he whispers, kissing the corner of her mouth, darting his tongue out to sweep across her mouth. She curls her fingers in his lap at the sensation, her heart pounding.

He nips at her lip, soothing the gentle bites with his tongue. She murmurs nonsensically against his mouth, her mind hazy. Weren't they supposed to be talking?

His hands slip around her waist, pulling her into him. She falls into his lap, straddling him with a soft, "Oof." She clutches his biceps for support, loves the way they look in his black shirt, the way they feel under her small hands.

She melds her mouth to his, sighing softly as her body melts into his. He groans, a deep timber in his chest, as his wide palms slip under the edges of her tee shirt. Her stomach quivers as his thumbs brush around her side.

As his hand trails higher, her mind snaps into place.

"Castle," she says breathlessly, releasing his mouth. She smoothes his red lips with her fingers, resting her forehead against hers.

"Guess I got carried away," he murmurs apologetically.

She shakes her head against his, kissing him chastely as she presses her hands against his cheeks. "It's not that. It's just…we were supposed to talk, remember?"

He nods slowly, lifting his hands to circle her wrists. "Right."

"It's because of what I said the other day, isn't it? When I said I wasn't sure if I was sticking around?"

"Yeah," he says softly.

She sighs. "Castle, I…I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that we couldn't be sure of where the relationship was going and I didn't want Alexis to get hurt in the process."

"I guess I just thought if I held on tight enough then you wouldn't go anywhere. Sounds ridiculous." He laughs bitterly.

Her fingers slide into his hair as she kisses his forehead. "She burned you pretty badly, didn't she?"

"It wasn't easy with her. She was stubborn and selfish and flighty. But in spite of that…I fell in love with her. Somehow, some way, it happened. And then…" He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "I came home one afternoon after I dropped Alexis off at a play date. Found her in _our_ bed with _her_ director."

"Jesus Christ." She doesn't understand how any woman—

Just. If she ever meets Meredith.

Ugh.

"It's done, you know…it's just done. She's living her own life now and I'm better off without her."

"You deserve better than her, Rick," she says fiercely.

He shakes his head "I don't know about that."

"I do. You and Alexis…I'm not saying that Alexis doesn't need a mother in her life, but you've done a wonderful job raising her on your own, Castle. She's an incredible little girl and I don't know if she would've turned out that way if you two stayed together."

He takes a deep breath, his hands loosening at her sides. "I'm sorry about the last couple of days. I don't think I realized what I was doing—how I was acting til you called me out on it."

"I shouldn't have said what I did, either. I wasn't thinking."

He presses a kiss to her palm. "Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Castle. We all get a little insecure sometimes."

He nods, relief filling his eyes. She smiles, brushing his dark hair from his eyes.

"Now," she says, wrapping her arms tight against him, "I'd like to get back to our impromptu make out session now if you don't mind," she teases slyly.

"I thought you'd never ask," he growls before capturing her lips once again.

* * *

><p><strong>I'd love a review if you've got time...<strong>

**Olivia**


	17. Chapter 17

_For Emma, one of the most inspiring friends I've ever known, both real and virtual._

* * *

><p>Kate doesn't get home the next night til after nine, after pulling a double at the restaurant.<p>

She kicks off her shoes and runs a hand through her hair, slightly greasy after spending all day hustling back and forth from the kitchen.

Her father looks up from his solitaire game and gives her a once-over. "Long day?"

She sighs, collapsing in a chair. "Like you wouldn't believe."

He gathers up the cards and shuffles them once with a snap of his wrist. Kate can't take her eyes off his hands as they brush the air, the cards flicking so fast that it makes her head spin a little.

Every morning when Kate woke up for school, she'd find her father at the table playing solitaire while her mother cooked them both breakfast, an apron wrapped around whatever colored power suit she'd chosen to wear that day.

"You okay, Katie?" His hands cease their movement as he searches her face in concern.

She shakes her head, smiling. "Yeah, just…memories." She shrugs. Her father smiles, a little sadly.

"I always loved our mornings together," he says wistfully.

She swallows hard. "Me too." A beat.

"Your mother would be so proud of you, Katie. She's always just wanted to see you happy."

"I am happy, Dad."

"I can never believe that anyone would deserve you, but…"

Kate rolls her eyes, blushing. "Castle's been good to me."

He nods. "You should invite him over for dinner soon. I'd like to get to know him better."

She hesitates. "Yeah. Just…" She sighs. "There's something I haven't told you." He raises an eyebrow, all ears. "Rick has a little girl."

"As in…a daughter?"

She nods. "Yeah, her name's Alexis. She's…" She trails off, shaking her head in awe. "She's pretty special."

He hums and she can't tell if it's disapproving or not. "You've met her?"

"She's here with him now. When we met, she was visiting her mother in California. He has full custody, though."

Her dad sighs. "I guess I didn't realize he was that much older than you."

"He doesn't act like it sometimes," she says wryly.

He doesn't laugh, or even chuckle, at her joke. She tilts her head, biting her bottom lip as she watches him sort it out in his head.

"Dad," she plays a hand over his, "He's a wonderful man. You've met him. Surely you've seen that." A beat. "Besides, we both know that I've had to grow up a lot these last few years."

"You're right. I'm just—"

"Being a father?" she finishes, smiling. "How about I invite them both over tomorrow night for dinner? I dare you not to fall for Alexis's charms."

He laughs. "Okay, Katie. Okay."

She grins, grabbing the deck of cards from in front of him. She shuffles them expertly, a trick she picked up from him. "You up for a game?"

"500 Rummy?"

"Is there anything else?"

She deals their hands as she listens to him prattle about his day painting Mrs. Russell's kitchen, who's recently gone bat-shit crazy. She laughs as she notes the way his eyes brighten and smile, a phenomenon she swears she hasn't seen since her mother passed.

They'd be okay, she and him.

They would.

* * *

><p>She wakes up the next morning to a buzzing phone on her bedside table. She groans, her eyes fuzzy as she squints to read the numbers on the alarm clock. She grabs the phone and flicks it open, flopping back down onto her pillow.<p>

"It's my day off. Why are you calling me before ten a.m.?" she asks, grumpily.

Castle laughs on the other end. "I missed you, too," he teases.

She hums. "You know I did. I'm not inflating your ego."

"Fair enough."

"You still haven't told me why you're calling me at eight o'clock in the morning."

"I called to ask if you wanted to spend the day with us at the beach."

She really hadn't gotten much beach time since the summer started, oddly enough. Nothing sounded more perfect.

"Sounds perfect. What time did you guys wanna head out?"

"Well, Alexis is already up, so…"

She shoves the side of her face into her pillow. "You do know I worked a double yesterday, right?" she asks, edgy.

Wow, she _is_ grumpy.

"You don't have to meet us there right away. Whenever you're ready," he says lightly. No big deal.

"Right. Let's say in about an hour or two? Just text me and let me know where you've camped out."

"Sounds good. We'll you then."

"Yeah." A beat. "Thanks for the invitation, Castle," she breathes.

"Always."

She tosses and turns for half an hour, unable to erase the lingering guilt she feels for snapping at him earlier. It isn't a big deal, not really, and she knows he didn't make it one. But she knows it'll stay with her until she apologizes face to face.

She forgoes the shower this morning and pulls on a simple black bikini, throwing on a pair of cutoff jeans and an old college tee shirt over it. She grabs a bag and throws in an old sheet, a towel, sun block, a magazine, and a book she'd been meaning to start for ages.

She scribbles a note for her Dad before she leaves. She should be back around four-thirty to start dinner.

She finds them about half a mile from her house, lying on their backs, elbows propped side by side. Matching sunglasses adorn their faces.

She wishes she thought to bring her camera. They make an adorable picture.

She plops her stuff down next to them and peels her clothes from her body, already sticky with sweat under the beating sun. She looks down as Castle notices her for the first time, tipping his sunglasses low on his nose as he peruses her body.

"Hi, _Alexis,_" she teases warningly, shaking her head. He makes a face. Well-played.

Alexis pulls her sunglasses off, smiling. "Hi, Kate. I like your bathing suit."

"Thanks. It's not as cool as yours, though," she says, admiring her deep blue one piece.

"My mom bought it for me," she says proudly. Kate's gaze flickers to Castle, whose smile falters a little bit.

Kate hesitates. "Well, she's got great taste."

Alexis just grins back at her before turning to her father. "I'm gonna get in the water. Too hot." She makes a face.

"Okay, but I'll have to put more sun block on you later. We left the waterproof stuff back at the house."

She sighs. "Okay." She scampers off towards the water, red hair flying behind her.

"You should've called me. I would've brought some," Kate says as she pulls the sheet from her bag and begins to lay it down.

He shrugs. "She'll be fine. We can always rent an umbrella or something."

She leans down, arms on opposite sides of his chest, and kisses him softly.

"Hmm. Hi." He brushes a hand down her arm, smiling broadly.

"Hi," she says softly.

"You're killing me in this flimsy thing, you know."

She frowns. "It is not flimsy." His hand skims down her side to tangle with the string on her hips. He raises an eyebrow. Really?

"Okay, maybe it's a _little_ skimpy," she concedes. He groans deeply before capturing her mouth again, slipping his tongue inside easily. His fingers dip just slightly beneath the strings at her hips, teasing her thigh.

He pulls away a moment later and rests his head against hers, breathing shallow.

"Hi."

She laughs. "You said that already."

"Yeah, well, you make me speechless."

She rolls her eyes at that one and pulls away from him, nestling into a spot on the sheet, wiggling into the sand. "You're lucky Alexis is in the water."

"I'm not sure 'lucky' is the word I would've picked," he grumbles.

"All in good time, Mr. Castle," she teases, eyes glinting.

He sighs dramatically, pout poised and ready on his lips. "Can I at least, uh, help you with your sun block?"

She lets out a disbelieving breath. "You're shameless."

He shrugs. "Pretty much. Yeah."

She tosses him the bottle anyway and turns around, hunching her back slightly. "Keep it PG."

"I'm offended by your insinuation."

Her retort falters at the feel of his hands slathering the cold liquid on the skin. He kneads her back as he goes, lightly massaging her muscles. She hums, her eyes fluttering closed.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Hmm. Fine."

"Good," he says quietly. Her eyes slide open as her guilt bubbles in her stomach again.

"I didn't mean to snap at you this morning," she explains. "Sometimes I forget how grouchy I can be when I don't get enough sleep." She shifts, tucking her right leg under her bended left. She rests her head on her knee, searching his face.

"You've been stressing about this all morning, haven't you?" he asks.

She smiles sheepishly. "Maybe."

"I know how you can make it up to me." He waggles an eyebrow, dropping the subject.

"I'm not sleeping with you, Castle."

Ahem. _Yet._

"Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm talking about dinner tonight. You, me, and Alexis."

"Actually…" she trails off, biting her bottom lip. "I meant to talk to you about that. What if you the two of you came over tonight? I'll cook dinner and you can…bond with my Dad."

"_Bond_? Sounds ominous."

"He likes you. I think he just wants some reassurance, you know? Wasn't too thrilled when I told him about her." She bows her head towards Alexis, who's crouched at the water's edge, digging through the sand.

"Ah. Right."

"I told him he wouldn't be able to resist her charms." She smiles.

"Ah, yes, the Castle charm. I taught her everything she knows."

She laughs, leaning into him to brush a hand through his short hair. "Can't argue with that one."

"Dad!" Alexis calls as she dashes towards them, sand flinging under the pounce of her feet.

He laughs at her exuberance. "Yeah, sweetie?"

She reaches them, breathless, her bright blue eyes light with excitement. "Can we build a sandcastle?"

"Is our last name Castle?"

Kate groans at his attempt at humor, pressing her head into her knee.

"What do you say, Beckett? You in? A castle always needs a princess."

"It already has one."

"Oh, Alexis? Yeah."

"I was talking about you, Castle."

He feigns a wince. "Ouch."

She exchanges grins with Alexis before rising to her feet. She holds her hand out to him. "Come on Princess, our castle awaits us."

He narrows his eyes. "Alexis, help me out here."

Alexis shrugs. "Sorry, Dad."

"Oh, you are _so_ cut off." Alexis giggles, even though Kate's certain that she doesn't quite understand what he's said. He grabs Kate's hand and lets her pull him to his feet. She nudges his shoulder as they follow Alexis to a spot closer to the water.

"You didn't answer my question."

His face twists in confusion. "What question?"

She hesitates. "About dinner tonight. With my Dad."

"It's important to you, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she breathes, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He kisses her cheek. "Then we'll be there."

* * *

><p>They part hours later after a late light lunch of PB&amp;J sandwiches and fruit cups so Kate can run to the grocery store and shower before dinner. She decided to keep things simple with a cookout, picking up hot dogs and hamburgers along with cole slaw, potato salad, and an assortment of chips.<p>

When she arrives home, it's already after five. She finds her Dad outside on the deck, a book in his hand.

"Hey, Dad."

He looks up from his book and smiles in greeting. "All set for dinner?"

"Would you mind setting starting up the grill? I just wanna grab a quick shower. Ten minutes, tops."

He waves her away. "Your old man's got this."

She smiles. "Thanks."

She almost kisses Castle for his promptness (ten of six), but settles for a squeeze of her fingers against his.

"Thanks for coming, Alexis." She leads them into the house towards the kitchen where her Dad prepares a salad in the kitchen.

"I'm starving," she laments dramatically.

"Alexis," Rick scolds gently.

Kate waves him off, laughing gently. "I'm hungry, too. Should be ready in a few minutes." A beat. "But until then, how would you like to meet my Dad?" As they step into the kitchen, she gestures to her father, who stands in front of the counter, tossing a garden salad.

He sets the tongs down and smiles, eyes flicking from Alexis to Rick. Castle offers his hand in greeting.

"Jim."

He shakes his hand firmly, nodding once. "Good to see you again, Rick."

"This is my daughter, Alexis."

"Hey there, Alexis."

She smiles shyly. "Hi."

"I heard you're hungry," Jim jokes.

"I could eat a cow," she says seriously.

Jim laughs delightfully and Kate's heart clenches at the sound, music to her ears. Rick leans over, grinning.

"I think he's already smitten."

Indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>I'll do my best to keep these chapters longer since I've only managed to update once a week. <strong>

**Let me know what you think?**

**Olivia**


	18. Chapter 18

**I had planned on making this longer than what it is, but I'm already a week overdue with this one because of my busy weekend at home over Easter. A little under the weather as well, so I'm not sure how much I'll be writing this weekend, anyway. Apologies.**

* * *

><p>"What are you working on now, Rick?" Jim asks, taking a sip of water.<p>

Kate's hand finds Castle's under the picnic table, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. Before she can slide it away to wrap it around her hamburger, he threads their fingers together, pressing them between their thighs.

Eh, she only needs to eat with one hand anyway.

"I've been working on a new series about a private investigator."

Jim raises an eyebrow. "Sounds interesting."

"It's been a lot of fun. We'll see if my readers are open to it." He shrugs. He appears almost indifferent, but the slight twitch of his hand against hers tells her that he's a little more anxious about the project than he'd like to be.

"Katie can help you with that one. You've read them all, haven't you?" Jim asks, a teasing glint in his eye.

"Dad," she reprimands softly, her cheeks warm.

Castle nudges her side gently, trying to get her attention. She turns to him on a huff, warm burger clutched in her hand. He smiles, free and happy, and brushes his nose against her cheek.

"I think it's sweet," he says quietly. He presses a kiss to the slight hollow beneath her eye before turning back to his plate, engaging in a conversation with her father about an old house on the corner the town's planning to tear down.

'Sweet.' She'll take it.

Kate's eyes find Alexis, who's been sitting uncharacteristically silent for a few minutes.

Then again, she _did_ say she could eat an entire cow. Haha.

"Getting full yet?" Kate asks, watches as her small mouth wraps around another spoonful of cole slaw.

Alexis narrows her eyes suspiciously. "If I say yes, does that mean I can't have dessert?"

Kate grins. "And deny you a bowl of Eder's finest light chocolate ice cream? How cruel would I be?"

"Ice cream? I heard ice cream, right?" Castle juts his head in between the two of them, waggling his eyebrows as Jim quietly excuses himself to the restroom.

"It's chocolate, Daddy."

Rick's face falls and her laugh catches in her throat. He's never living that down.

"Oh," he says sadly. Kate rolls her eyes. So dramatic. "I suppose I can just have some jello." He flicks his eyes distastefully down the table at the bowl of red gelatin.

"I made that, thank you very much."

He bores his eyes into hers, an eyebrow raised. Really? "Yes, and it requires so much work."

She narrows her eyes. "There are three other flavors in the freezer, you big baby."

"Oh," he says foolishly. A beat. "Have I mentioned how absolutely _lovely_ you look tonight?"

She lets out a disbelieving laugh. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Castle."

"The jello is really yummy, Kate," Alexis says nonchalantly, paying little attention to the couple's exchange.

Hmph. See?

"You are such a traitor," Rick grumbles, reaching across the table to ruffle her hair. Alexis grins slyly beneath her mussed locks.

Guess she was paying attention after all. Ha.

"Who's ready for ice cream?" Her dad returns with a set of plastic bowls and spoons and a tub of light chocolate ice cream tucked under his arm.

He must've missed the other tubs she'd set in the basement freezer.

"We've only got chocolate, so I hope that's okay."

Rick groans softly, knocking his forehead against the back of his hand that rests on the wooden table.

Kate pats his back with a light, patronizing tap, rolling her eyes. "Actually, Dad. There's some more in the freezer downstairs. I'll run down to get it." She turns her attention back to Castle, flicking his ear gently. "You gonna come pick out what you want or would you rather sit here and sulk?" she teases.

He lifts his head, throwing her a very pointed glare. "I was not sulking. I was merely…lamenting."

Kate folds her arms across her chest. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

"Just the cool ones," he bounces back proudly, slipping his feet over the bench.

"Dad, you're gonna have to keep an eye on Alexis. She'll eat all the ice cream if you're not careful," Kate teases, winking at the little girl, who only shrugs.

"She's probably right," Alexis says seriously.

Kate laughs, ducking her open mouth against Castle's shoulder, who grins, pleased with Kate's reaction to his pride and joy.

_Oh_, she hopes the small redhead never ceases to keep her on her toes.

She gives him a gentle shove towards the house and links her fingers with his, catching her father's curious eye as they brush past him. He smiles, maybe a little sadly, and flicks his eyes to Rick's retreating form and back to hers.

Kate's heart stammers in her chest and she relinquishes Castle's fingers to linger in the silent conversation with her father. Kate pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, quirking her left eyebrow just slightly. Her father nods, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug.

She lets out a small, stuttering breath and leans in to brush a kiss against his cheek. Her hand lingers on his arm for a second before she slides it away to rejoin Rick.

"Alexis, did you hear about the one with the orange and the banana?" She chortles at her father's dulcet tones, wonders if he knows he's telling the joke incorrectly.

"Does he know it starts with 'Knock, Knock'?" Rick jokes, trailing behind her.

Kate laughs. "God help him if he doesn't."

They canter down a set of wooden steps as Kate's palm brushes over the drywall, tripping over the light switch.

"Watch out for the bottom step." The wood is completely rotted through—has been for as long as she can remember. Something about a flood from the late 60's. She hops over it, her feet landing softly on the concrete floor.

"Doesn't your father fix houses for a living?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't get me started." She flips open the box freezer, rummaging for the ice cream around bags of frozen vegetables, old ice cream cake, and expired Hungry Man dinners.

Ugh. She really needs to clean this thing out.

"You two speak in your own code or something?" he asks as she tosses him a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough.

"Hmm?" she asks absentmindedly. Her fingers clench around a box of drumsticks and a gallon of Neopolitan. She produces them with a flourish in her outstretched hands, grinning triumphantly.

He glances over the options before tearing into the box of cones, pulling out a wrapped drumstick. He keeps the tub of cookie dough in his hand and places the gallon of Neopolitan back in the freezer.

She furrows her eyebrow, feigning disapproval.

"Don't give me that look. You know how the Castles are with ice cream." She can't help the way her eyes zero onto his mouth as he tears the wrapper with his teeth. "Besides," he pulls the cone from the plastic, "we can share it."

He bites into it first, swiping his tongue along the corner of his mouth as a piece of chocolate misses.

Secret code.

What?

She shakes her head, escaping the distraction of his mouth. "Did you say something about a code?"

He lowers his hand, lifts his eyes in thought. "Oh, I said, 'Do you and your father speak in code'? The way you two were," his fingers dance awkwardly in the line of their eyesight, "you know." He holds the stick out for her. She steps closer and wraps her mouth around it, sucking slightly.

And then his lips are parting and his eyes are darkening and—

Oh. Yeah, she—

It wasn't intentional, but maybe—yeah, maybe it was a little.

She takes a step back, her palate savoring the cold treat.

But, _oh._

He's not having any of that. He stalks toward her as her body rests against the freezer. He boxes her in with his hands, pressing his body lightly into hers.

"You were saying?" He asks, lifting the cone to his mouth and nibbling gently, mouth millimeters from hers.

Her eyes flutter at his proximity. "What were we talking about again?" she asks breathlessly.

Ugh. She clearly cannot hold a conversation with this man right now.

His chest rumbles with laughter. Focus, Kate. "You. Your Dad. Upstairs just now."

Oh. Right. "He approves of you." He pauses, mulling over her response as she lunges for another bite.

"He does? How can you tell?"

She rolls her eyes, swallowing. "I just can. The code, Castle," she teases. "Besides," she rests her hands against his hips, "You can be quite the charmer when you want to be."

"Your dad isn't the type of guy to fall for my wiles, Kate," he points out wryly, pulling another chunk into his mouth. He hands her the last bit.

"No," she agrees, her fingers slipping the rest through her lips. "Which is why he sees through it to the sincerity," she says softly. He presses a sloppy, sweet kiss against her mouth, sipping the lingering cream.

"You're extraordinary," he murmurs against her lips.

Her fingers slide up to grip his tee shirt gently in her hands. She pulls away slightly, nudging her nose against his.

"You're not so bad yourself, Castle," she whispers before melding her mouth to his once more.

* * *

><p><strong>I've been hearing a lot lately about danglingmisplaced modifiers. A few readers are up in arms about them, so I'll just say this: Sometimes grammatical rules are meant to be broken. Sounds like blasphemy, I know, but take this sentence for example (pulled from this chapter):**

**"Kate laughs, ducking her open mouth against Castle's shoulder, who grins, pleased with Kate's reaction to his pride and joy."**

**Technically, "who grins" is wrong because I should be modifying Castle's shoulder in this instance. But it sounds awkward for me to say:**

**"Kate laughs, ducking her open mouth against the shoulder of Castle, who grins..."**

**See the difference?**

**Anyway. Reviews will surely heal me quicker than any cold medicine. ;)**

**Olivia**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks goes out to Googie, who helped me with a bit of writer's block. I don't think this is quite what she had in mind, though...**

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><p>"He's good for you," her father observes as the water from the tap sluices over his hands, dripping off the dirty salad bowl.<p>

Kate smiles, placing the lid on the half-empty container of potato salad. Her eyes slide to the glass door where she can see Castle and Alexis huddled over a deck of cards at the table. He'd joked about teaching her to play Texas Hold 'Em, but it looks like a friendly game of Go Fish.

"You think so?" she asks softly, directing her attention back to her dad.

"Yeah, I do, Katie." He smiles, shaking his head. "And that little girl is something else."

She laughs. "I knew she'd charm the pants off you."

He flicks the tap off, grabbing a towel from the handle of the refrigerator to slip his hands through. "You're being careful, right?"

Oh, God.

"I mean—not—well, that too, but—"

She groans. "Dad—"

"I meant with _her_, Kate. With Alexis."

Oh.

"I know what I'm doing, Dad."

He nods. "I know, I just….You're still so young—"

"I've done a lot of growing up in the last few years," she points out, piling the leftovers into the refrigerator. She's trying really hard to push the irritation down, knows he's just trying to be her _dad_, but she's used to alcoholic dad, the one she has to take care of.

Not the other way around.

"And I really like him, Dad. Everything's fine."

"Are you…" he trails off, leaning his body against the countertop. He sighs, shaking his head as if to brush away whatever he was going to say.

She frowns. "What? Am I what?"

"Are you in love with him?" he asks quietly.

Is she—

Oh.

She clutches the edge of the counter tight in her palm. "I don't—" she shakes her head, clearing her mind. "Two weeks and some change, Dad. I—" She lets out a breath.

"We both know it's been longer than that. You lost yourself in his books after she passed."

"I didn't know him then."

He shakes his head fiercely. "You knew the parts that mattered."

She sighs, running a hand through her hair before resting her fingers on her lips. She shuffles toward the door again, this time resting her face against the glass, chilled with the slight nip of the night air. Her heart clenches as the two Castles light up, sharing a joke that the rest of the world wants to be in on.

She would've been lost without him these last couple of weeks, she could say that much. She loves being around him—the way he makes her laugh with her whole being, the way her body can't stop thrumming when he's around, the way he takes his time with her. He's been so painstakingly understanding.

Is that love?

She doesn't know.

"Where you goin' with this, Dad?" she finally asks.

"He makes you happy—" She nods, of course he does. "But you're holding back."

Her eyes snap to his, surprised. "I told him about you and—and Mom."

"Not voluntarily. He caught you in a lie."

"I wasn't ready then," she says defensively. "I'd like to think that if he hadn't found out, I would've told him by now, assuming we'd be as close as we are."

"But you haven't told him about Thursday."

She freezes. But how could he have known that?

"Because you're my daughter, Katie," he says, reading her mind. "I may have been drunk for the last four years, but I haven't been blind." He sighs.

"What's the big deal, Dad? It's one day." But the words are rough on her tongue and she can't even fool herself.

"Don't. Okay? Just don't," he says edgily, closing his eyes.

"Dad." She sighs tiredly. "I'll be _fine_."

"Maybe I should stay home," he says quietly, running a hand through his hair.

She swallows hard. "We both know that wouldn't be a good idea," she rasps.

"Then you gotta tell him," he says firmly. "Because I'll be damned if I'm going to leave you alone on your mother's birthday, Katie."

She chokes on a sob, letting her body collapse in a nearby chair.

They both agreed that he should spend the day with his sponsor, who'd make sure that he wouldn't touch a drop. Kate hadn't exactly been an enabler, but it wasn't her responsibility to keep him sober either. She wasn't sure she had the ability to deny him, anyway. Especially on her mother's birthday.

She stiffens slightly as she feels him wrap his arms around her. "It's not that I don't trust you. Just—just need it for my own peace of mind, okay?"

She nods, letting out a shaky breath.

"Rick invited us over tomorrow night for fireworks." A beat. "But I already have plans with Bill," he hedges.

Translation: She's going to Rick's house tomorrow night alone to talk to him.

Oh, she feels like eight years old again.

* * *

><p>As it is, she's in his house all of five minutes the next night before a storm breaks out, trapping them in the house for the remainder of the evening.<p>

"Stupid rain," Alexis mutters, shooting daggers with her eyes toward the open sky, the blustery wind lifting her hair through the screen door.

Kate shivers as the thunder rumbles through her. She _loves _thunderstorms.

"Sorry, pumpkin. Another night," he promises, placing a hand on the young redhead's shoulder.

Alexis sighs, turning away from the door. "I'm going to bed."

"You mean you're going to pout," Castle says, tilting his head downward to throw her a pointed look.

"Yeah," Alexis deadpans.

He sighs, straightening his spine. "Well, at least you admitted to it." He shrugs, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. "You want me to tuck you in?"

Alexis shakes her head before turning to Kate. "'Night."

Kate smiles, bending over slightly to wrap the girl in a hug. "Sweet dreams, hon."

"You must really put on a good display," she says, noting the way the girl shuffles to her room, grumbling under her breath.

He shrugs, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her tight to him. "I do all right."

She pats his hands. "Let's sit outside."

He raises an eyebrow and flits his eyes to the brewing storm and back to her.

She rolls her eyes. "On the porch swing. I wanna feel the wind on my face."

He mutters under his breath, shaking his head as she leads him out onto the porch. "I'm beginning to see Alexis in you more and more everyday," she teases, pressing a kiss to his mouth. He laces their fingers together as she follows him to the wooden swing. He props his back against the armrest, gesturing for her to sit in the space of his legs. She leans into his body easily, wrapping his arms around her middle. She hums contentedly, resting her head back on his shoulder.

"Better?" he asks, his deep voice rumbling in her ear.

She closes her eyes on a nod, relishing in the way the wind caresses her face.

"It's a shame your dad couldn't come tonight," he says after a moment. She opens her eyes as the sky flashes with lightning, illuminating the surrounding town for a brief second in time.

"Yeah. Would've been nice," she says flatly.

If he picks up on it, he doesn't say anything. "Maybe he can join us on Thursday? Alexis and I have been dying to try out this old-fashioned soda shop in town. We could grab a bite, come back here if the weather's clear."

"Sound great," she murmurs, craning her neck to brush a kiss across his jaw before resuming her previous position. "How about another night, though?"

He shrugs. "Whatever works for you." A beat. "You got a hot date on Thursday?"

She manages a weak laugh. "Not exactly."

He picks up on that, though. "What is it, Kate?" he asks quietly, cupping her jaw in his hand, twisting it gently to meet his curious gaze.

Damn, he's good.

She twists her bottom lip between her teeth, flicking her eyes away from him briefly. She lets out a shuddering breath.

"Kate?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.

"It's my mom's birthday, Castle." Her eyes find his again and for once, the sympathy she finds there is too much—socks her in the gut.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, brushing his mouth over her forehead. "That must be a hard day for you." She feels her body tighten with tension, but forces a small nod.

He presses a palm to her cheek, swiping his thumb across her jaw. "You and your dad gonna spend the day together?"

She swallows, twisting her head away from him briefly because she can't lie to him when he's looking at her like that. "Yeah." A beat.

"Yeah, we're spending the day together."

_Boom_.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, there's a storm brewing. Buckle up.<strong>

**Thoughts?**

**Olivia**


	20. Chapter 20

**I was supposed to go out tonight, but I wrote this instead.**

* * *

><p>It hits her before she's even out of bed, before the sun's even started to peak over the hill. She's drenched in sweat, fingers gripping the edges of her pillowcase like a lifeline. She wakes up whimpering, her mind foggy in one of the worst nightmares she's had in awhile.<p>

She slides out of bed, shaky and stumbling, and slips down the stairs for a cup of warm milk. Her skin chills as the night air filters over her body through the open window.

She pads to the dark living room, milk in hand, and snuggles under one of the quilts her mother made when Kate was young. This one is her favorite. It's worn, a little frayed at the edges. Scraps of Kate's baby clothes and her mother's maternity wear are woven throughout. She cocoons herself in it, inhaling deeply, longing for a lingering whiff of her mother's sunflower perfume.

The milk doesn't help, only makes her stomach churn a little. She wonders if it's gone bad.

She flicks on the television and curls herself into a ball on the couch, hoping the mindless flash of the infomercial will bring her some kind of respite. Her eyes droop easily, but at the slightest flutter, she's in the alley with her mother four years ago, reliving the nightmare beside her.

She briefly considers calling him, but she can't do that, won't do that. No, she needs to be alone, needs to get through it on her own without any help. She'll never be a whole person if she can't do it herself.

She slips under again, shivering as she feels the press of a knife into her skin, a victim like her mother.

When she wakes again, the quilt is wrapped tightly around her body, suffocating her. Her breath stutters in a gasp as she twists to remove the offending blanket from her body. The sun beats down on her face through the window, suffusing her skin.

She's so warm.

She peels off her tee shirt and lets it drop to the floor next to the blanket, moving slowly out of the living room as an episode of a morning talk show comes to a close.

Her hand fumbles with the doorknob to the bathroom, slick with sweat. She nearly falls into the bathroom, knocking her knee against the cupboard beneath the sink. The curse cracks in her mouth, rough and dry with restless sleep.

She slips out of the rest of her nightwear sluggishly and pulls back the shower curtain, flicking the spigot on as cold as it'll go. She steps in, bracing a palm against the wall of the shower. Doesn't trust her body.

She gasps as the spray collides with her chest, her arms, her face. Her arms are heavy and leaden as she works the soap over her body, the shampoo through her air. She can't manage conditioner today.

The water's begun to numb her body and she just wants to—

She presses her spine into the back wall of the shower, slowly sliding down until she sits in the tub, knees bent in front of her. She splutters as the water cascades down her face, blurring her vision.

Her fingers climb shakily down her body, pressing into the curve of her hip. She can still feel the cold metal of the knife there, slicing through her skin. She pinches it between her fingers, her throat closing around a choked sob.

_Mom_.

She craves the memories—the ones of her mother cooking Sunday brunch for her and her father, the ones of Johanna poring over case files in bed late at night while Kate lied next to her with her nose in a book. She wants the tinkle of her laugh, the softness of her hair between her fingers, the ease and grace with which she loved.

But Kate can't find them. They're buried under the nightmares, in the nights sneaking off to read the case file. They're drenched in bourbon, swimming somewhere deep in the bottle.

Her toes and fingers are prickling under the ice water. Kate crawls to the tap, wincing as the water sluices down her aching body. She turns it off on a shuddering sigh, rocking back onto her heels before pulling herself up.

She wraps herself in a ratty, faded pink towel that was once soft and new under the use of her mother's favorite fabric softener. But now it's rough against Kate's skin so she throws it into the hamper after she runs it over her body once.

She pulls a grey tee shirt over her braless chest and slips into a pair of leggings. She pulls her dripping hair into a low ponytail. It's cold and wet through her shirt.

She should get some flowers or buy a cake or get a card-

But she's frozen. Stuck.

She can't remember how she's gotten through the last four birthdays, the last four anniversaries. They're lost in a blur of tears, fights, and empty, cavernous conversations.

_Call him_.

But she doesn't because she's a coward and she lied to him.

She can do this, can find a way to cope, can find a way out of the hole she's dug herself into.

Can't she?

Her phone buzzes somewhere, near or distant, she isn't sure. Her tired eyes find it on the nightstand, where she'd left it last night.

She picks it up and flips it open, finds a message from him.

_Thinking of you today. Call me if you need anything._

She sighs, shutting the phone and tossing it onto the bed. His concern chokes her, strangles her in its grasp. It's irrational and stupid and irrationally...stupid, but she's glad she hasn't called him.

She shuffles to her mother's room—her _father's_ room, she corrects—and pauses at the threshold. She's been in here several times since, of course, but always to check on her father. She's never bothered to look for her in here, never really wanted to. But the nightmares and the emptiness press against her, squeezing the air from her lungs and she just needs something to start breathing again, something to take the edge off.

Her fingers claw at unmarked cardboard boxes in the back of the closet.

It's everything. Photo albums, clothing, sewing kits, old editions of law books with her mother's scribbles littered through them. She fingers through her mother's favorite paperbacks, yellowed with age and dog-eared with impatience.

In the last box, tucked neatly at the bottom is a macaroni jewelry box that Kate made when she was six. Her fingers trace the box reverently, hovering over the clasp. But this—

Everything. It assaults her senses and she's struggling, drowning. She drops the box so quickly that a rough edge pricks her finger, staining the box with her blood. She hears the accessories rattle as it clatters to the floor and it's a gunshot in her ears, ringing and reverberating all around her.

She stumbles to the kitchen, shoving her injured finger between her lips to lick the blood away.

She needs—can't—

Her hands fumble with the handles of the cupboard, tearing through the contents feverishly. A jar of peanut butter rolls to the floor; a half-empty box of Raisin Bran litters the counter; a can of peaches leaks onto a Bunsen burner.

She doesn't know what she's looking for until she finds it.

Her body wracks with relief as she uncaps the bottle, clenched tightly in her hand like a lifeline, and lets the alcohol slide down her throat, lighting her body on fire. She closes her eyes on a gasp. Her mother's there, behind her eyes, ruffling Kate's hair as they walk on the beach, hand in hand.

She lets out a breath and takes another sip.

* * *

><p><strong>Ahem. Thoughts?<strong>

**Olivia**


	21. Chapter 21

**A few mentioned that they didn't think last chapter was realistic. I stick by my writing, but I thought I'd explain my reasoning. Kate is only 23, two years older than me. She's not going to have it all together. She doesn't have it together in canon and she's almost a full 10 years older. For me, last chapter was really reminiscent of her scenes in Kill Shot, where she just kind of loses it. And she's in Jersey, not in Manhattan, so she can't go visit her Mom's grave. Well, actually, I guess she _could_, but she didn't.**

* * *

><p>Her head pounds in a staccato rhythm against her forehead. She wants to open her eyes, tries to, but they're heavy with alcohol. She rolls onto her side on a groan, her limbs flopping over their sides. Her hand hits something soft and smooth, but she'd been in the kitchen, hadn't she? Had she fallen asleep on the floor? Maybe she'd collapsed on the couch and forgot. Hmm. Yeah.<p>

Her system's crashing again, begging for relief from the wrench of exhaustion and alcohol abuse. She lets herself slip under again, praying that when she wakes up, it'll be a new day.

_Castle._

Kate.

_Castle?_

God, Kate.

"Castle?" she croaks on a whisper, scrunching her forehead in confusion. He's there somewhere—she can feel him—but her grasp on reality is shot. Her head thumps and it's dark outside and she—

And then he's there in front of her as the fog clears a little, pressing his hand to the side of her face, cradling it reverently as his eyes flick over hers, searching for signs of real consciousness, no doubt.

"Castle," she rasps again, her fingers sliding through the sheets to rub at her eyes.

Wait. Sheets.

She's not on her couch.

Her eyes flit around anxiously, but she doesn't recognize anything. It's not her bed, not her room or any other room in her house.

"Guest room," he offers, observing her confusion.

"I don't—what—" She shakes her head at her incoherence, bracing her hands against the mattress so that she can slide up to a sitting position. It makes her dizzy though and her stomach rolls at the motion. She winces, pressing a hand to her stomach.

"Take it easy," he says softly. "There's a trash can next to you if you need it. I don't think you should try to make it to the bathroom quite yet."

She nods slowly, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead to dull the throbbing. She sucks in a breath and lets her hand drop to the mattress.

"What time is it?"

"About eight thirty."

Oh, shit. How long was she out for?

She needs to go home; her dad will be worried about her. She can't—No. She has to get home. She kicks the sheets off her body and starts to slowly slide across the bed.

"Kate, what are you doing?" he asks, sliding his body closer to her to prevent her from moving any further.

"'Need to go home. Dad'll be worried, Castle," she whimpers.

"Kate, you're confused. You've probably still got a decent amount of alcohol in your system. Your dad isn't home yet."

She frowns. "How would you know?"

"Because he called me, wanted to know what our plans were for today," he says quietly.

Riiiight. She was supposed to spend the day with him. And then she lied to him and-

Yeah, she's royally fucked this one up.

"Sorry," she offers weakly.

He clenches his jaw and slides off the bed. "You should really try to get some rest," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, smoothing the tension.

"Rick—"

He sighs. "Later, Kate. You're still drunk."

She nods, her body shrinking into the bed like a reprimanded child. Without another word, he slips out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Way to go, Kate.

* * *

><p>When she wakes again, her body sags in near relief. Finally a new day. The clock on the wall reads 12:03. Three minutes. Barely, but enough.<p>

God, she feels disgusting. Her hands are clammy and her shirt sticks to her body. Her mouth is as dry as the Sahara and _oh_, she'd kill for a glass of water.

She gets out of the bed slowly, testing her body for signs of buckling. She's still a little woozy, but the her mind is clear. She shuffles out of the room and tiptoes down the stairs in case he's asleep.

Well, Alexis would be, anyway.

Oh. Alexis.

How'd he explain that one to her? She'd be too young to truly understand, but she's the smartest kid around. She'd pick up on most of it, especially if Rick was a nervous wreck when he found her.

Oh, God. _Found _her.

Like she'd found her father two weeks ago, passed out in a chair with an empty liquor bottle littering the floor.

Oh, Castle.

She pauses at the bottom of the stairs, startled. She doesn't expect to find him sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee, weary eyes trained on the laptop in front of him.

He looks exhausted. His button down shirt is wrinkled—partially unbuttoned—and his hair looks like it's been on the end of a few anxious hands.

"God, Castle, I'm so sorry," she breathes to herself.

But then his head snaps to where she stands and she knows he heard it, heard _something_, anyway. She forces a little half-smile and joins him at the table, sliding out a chair.

He closes his laptop and offers her his glass of water that sits next to him. She accepts it greedily and sighs as the liquid soothes her mouth and throat.

"Thank you," she says, her tone far more serious to be referring to a glass of water.

"You should've told me," he says roughly.

She swallows hard. "I couldn't."

"Why the hell not, Kate?"

"I was trying to prove something to myself. That I could do it on my own without any help."

He laughs darkly. "I think you had a little help."

"Castle, please—"

"_No,_ Kate." He scrubs a hand down his face before letting his hand fall with a hard slap to the table. "God, to have your Dad call me and then—" His voice begins to crack. "I found you lying on the goddamn floor, Kate Would've taken you to the hospital if you hadn't started muttering in your sleep." He lets out a choked sob, tears trailing down his cheeks. "Thank God Alexis had a playdate." He shakes his head.

She grips the table hard to keep from flying to him in a whisper of apologies and raw kisses. She has to let him finish.

"I would've held you _all day_, Kate, if you told me it was what you needed. I would've gotten you out of town or figured something—_Jesus Christ_, anything, Kate. I would've done anything for you." He pauses. "I would've left you alone if it was what you wanted. I didn't—didn't know how bad it was, but I would've left you alone if you'd told me the truth to begin with."

"I—"

"Because I trust you, Kate." He pauses, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "So why the hell can't you trust me, too?"

She goes to him, then, because she can't wait any longer. He resists her at first, just like she knew he would, but she forces herself into his arms, situating herself on his lap.

"It's not that I don't trust you," she breathes. "Today was—" she shakes her head, tears filling her eyes. "It was so _awful_, Castle, but I thought I could handle it by myself and I—" She sucks in a breath. "I thought you and my father would try to talk me out of it."

"I would've tried to understand. I would've," he says firmly, tears still dripping from his eyes as he slides a rough palm to press against the side of her face.

"I never meant to hurt you," she expels a harsh breath, her forehead colliding with his.

"You can't do this again. I can't do it again, Kate. I can't," he whispers, closing his eyes.

She lays her hands on his shoulders, gripping the edges of his shirt tight in her palms.

"I just—God, I miss her so much," she chokes out, collapsing against him.

"I'm right here, Kate. I'm not going anywhere." He presses a soft, comforting kiss to her lips.

But it isn't enough. Her fingers claw at his shirt as she hungrily lunges for the cavern of his mouth. She moans as her tongue finds his, his strong hands gripping her thighs. She nips harshly at his lips, sucking, drinking him in. She pushes his shirt from his shoulders impatiently.

"Kate," he groans, pulling away from her mouth.

"What is it?" she asks through a heaving breath.

"We can't do this."

"Sure we can," she growls darkly, reaching for him again.

He leans back, away from her grasp. "It's our first time, Kate," he says softly.

"You said you'd do anything, Castle. _Anything_." She stares at him, hard and cold. She craves the feeling of his skin on hers, his body under her fingers—just needs something to take the edge off.

He shakes his head. "Anything but this, Kate," he says quietly.

She glares at him as she untangles herself from him, rising from her spot on his lap.

"It's late. I should go. Check on my dad," she mutters.

"Don't do this," he pleads, reaching for her.

She flinches, shirking away from him. "I'm not doing anything," she whispers harshly.

"I'm _here_, Kate." His palms cup her cheeks. "Stop pushing me away," he says gently.

She swallows hard. "I'll call you tomorrow."

And just like that, she's gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>


	22. Chapter 22

**Please don't let Emma take away my Necco wafers.**

* * *

><p>She doesn't call him the next day, knows she should, knows she's being ridiculous and he deserves something (someone) so much better, but—<p>

She can't.

She needs a day to recover, a day where she doesn't have to talk or hash it out or grovel, even. She has a quiet, stern conversation with her dad (whose eyes are far too misty for her liking) that ends with his arms wrapped tightly around her, broken promises crushed between them.

She turns in her apron then because she's so fucking tired of that place and she only has a week or so before she has to go back to Manhattan, anyway. She shoves it into Mike's hands without a word (because he doesn't deserve a two weeks notice from her), her nails snagging the inside of his wrists. He glares, a "Fuck you" poised and ready on his lips, but she storms out before the words make it out of his mouth.

She has to get out of here. The salty air lunges itself down her throat, wraps itself around her insides. The cacophony of shrill beach-going voices buzzes loudly in her ear, makes her dizzy.

She has nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

She wants _him_, pre-yesterday Castle. She wants to hold his hand and snuggle against him and forget about the world. She wants to run her fingers through his hair and press her mouth to his, drown herself in him.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she knows it's him. She pulls it out of her pocket, hovers her finger over the button. She isn't surprised, knows him to push a little. If she doesn't answer, he'll let it go, wait for her to come to him.

She declines the call, can feel his rejection, his hurt, crawling all over her, seeping into her insides. It's too fresh and she needs time to work it out on her own.

She considers making the long drive to the cabin, but the air conditioner in the car is broken and the heat will only make her crankier.

* * *

><p>She bikes a little deeper into town than she normally would, far enough away to get out of the clusters of tourists. There are only townies around these parts, polite folks who are content to keep to themselves.<p>

She finds a small café in the corner, orders a homemade pumpkin muffin and a vanilla skim latte even though it's hot enough outside to cook an egg on the sidewalk. The older gentleman behind the counter hands them to her with a smile, but doesn't bother to make mindless small talk. She rewards him with a smile of her own, nodding to the cup gratefully.

She settles down at a wicker table in the corner and goes to work on her muffin, inhaling it greedily. She can't remember the last time she had anything to eat. She skipped out this morning without breakfast and yesterday—

Yesterday she didn't eat at all.

She can almost still taste the bourbon on her tongue, can feel the sweat licking her body, the nightmares assaulting her head.

She takes a long sip of her latte and it burns a path down her throat, heating her chest. And then he's there in her head, holding her, loving her as she crumbles in his arms, even under the weight of her lie and betrayal.

God, what had she been thinking?

She'D been so blind in her own grief, pushing him away when he didn't succumb to her darkness.

Like father, like daughter.

She'd spent so much time taking care of her dad, so much time trying to keep their relationship intact. Now that he's mending fences and giving up his crutch, she's at a loss. She'd been hiding in her role as caretaker, ignoring her own grief to help him through his.

One night doesn't make her an alcoholic, doesn't exactly make her _him, _but—

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

She wonders briefly if maybe she should look into getting professional help when gets back to Manhattan. She can't imagine working in Homicide in her current state of mind; she'll never make it. She'll get eaten alive, won't be able to climb out again.

Especially if she doesn't have Castle by her side.

She has no idea what to say to him, no idea how to even start apologizing, but she can't put him off any longer. She doesn't _want_ to put him off any longer.

She's grabbing for her phone, all thumbs and nervous energy. She shoves the phone to her ear, her heart thrumming low in her chest as the tone ticks through slowly.

Voicemail.

She swallows the rest of her latte and orders a few pastries for the road. She'll bring him cookies and apologize and grovel and hug his kid and—

Everything will be fine.

Her shoulders sag in relief as she wraps her fingers around the brown bag, giving the baker another smile. "Have a nice day," she says quietly before ducking out into the hot sun.

* * *

><p>Her heart pounds as she walks up the steps to his porch, goodies in hand. She pulls the screen door away, lifting her hand to rap against the glass pane. But her foot trips over something before she has a chance.<p>

She reaches down, her hands shaking as she wraps her fingers around _In a Hail of Bullets_.

She gasps, pressing a hand to her mouth. The bookstore—the gift he never remembered to give to her—

She'd completely forgotten.

But—

Why?

Her heart sinks in her chest as she backs away from the door slowly, stumbling slightly. She collapses onto the top step, a hard lump forming in her throat.

She flips her fingers through the pages, letting the blur of his words swallow her.

It stops somewhere in the beginning, bookmarked with a piece of paper. She slides it out, a cloud of dread lingering over her shoulder. She clutches it tightly in her hand now, the corners crinkling under pressure.

She lets out a shaky breath and lets her eyes slip over his words.

_Kate,_

_Alexis and I are traveling back to Manhattan this morning at my publisher's request. I've been a little behind on promotions for my latest book and I can't put it off any longer._

_I don't know what happened last night, Kate. Everything from yesterday is all a blur. I couldn't sleep last night after you left and you've been on my mind ever since. _

_I care deeply for you, surely you must know that. It tears me apart to see you in such pain and know that there's nothing I can do for you. I can kiss you, hold you, and make promises that I intend to keep, but at the end of the day, you're still living a nightmare._

_This isn't goodbye, Kate. I want you to find me when you're ready, whether that's tomorrow or three years from now. Maybe it's too soon to be writing these things and maybe I'm a fool, but I care about you too much to give you up. _

_I just want what's best for you, Kate. And I hope_

Her heart clenches as she notes the way the ink striates here, as if he can't bring himself to finish.

_I hope what's best for you includes a piece of me. _

_We'll be waiting, Alexis and I, for as long as it takes._

_-Rick_

Her knuckles are clenched and white against the paper and her breaths are harsh—cut right through her as the tears start to fall from her eyes, running his wrenching words together.

He's gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Ahem. I'll just...be over here.<strong>

**Thoughts?**


	23. Chapter 23

**For Joy.**

* * *

><p>The first week without him was torture. She didn't eat much, barely said anything to her father. She made it a day before she was driving back to the city, away from the town that only existed to remind her of him now.<p>

She dropped a few sizes, almost fit into size 0 jeans after living on bananas (the only thing she could stomach) and coffee to keep the nightmares away. They came more regularly, almost every night after her mother's birthday. When she wasn't curling in terror as she watched her mother die in an alley, her heart was clenching as his words reverberated through her entire body.

_We'll be waiting for you._

She yearned for him, needed the weight of his body around hers, protecting her from the demons. From _herself._

But he deserved better. He and Alexis, both.

So she waited.

She pulled herself together in time for her to return to the academy. Her bones stopped protruding so harshly against her skin; she started sleeping a little better. She went to lunch with her father once a week, more for his peace of mind than hers. She became a pro at acting as the reassuring daughter, but she knows he saw through her more than once.

With a little prodding, her father convinced her to start seeing a therapist. Two sessions a week. She's started to feel like a normal human being again; there's light somewhere in the darkness and she just wants it to swallow her, encompass her whole being.

She's not there yet, can't really expect miracles after six weeks, after twelve sessions.

But it's a start.

She should call him, but it's so much easier to stay away now.

Not that she doesn't want him. No, she still craves his presence, doesn't need him any less than before.

But she doesn't have the words; they've always been his thing. She needs some kind of gesture, but she's at a loss.

She keeps _In a Hail of Bullets _on her person at all times, the letter tucked neatly where he placed it. It's littered with creases now and has a few holes in it from where she's folded and unfolded it multiple times. His words have been her only contact with him for almost two months and she holds them to her, cherishes them.

She spends her days off wandering around New York, while it's still warm. She's better, but only just, and her apartment is too stifling and she has a tendency to suffocate herself.

Figuratively, of course.

Sometimes she goes to the park and reads a few passages of his book. She can't bring herself to reread the whole thing; even in the comfort it reminds her too much of her mother. One day, though.

When she needs bustle of the crowds so she can out of her head, she does the lame touristy thing (last week it was the Statue of Liberty) because the few memories she has of New York's landmarks are fuzzy and muddled with whiny 7 year-old Kate.

Other days, she just walks.

Anywhere and everywhere.

She forces her mind to go blank and walks until her feet start blister or her stomach rumbles.

Today, her feet have led her to Barnes & Noble.

Her breath catches when she sees him in the store window. It's just a cardboard cutout, a mirage of the real thing she dreams about.

Oh, but.

A book signing. He's _here._

And so is she. They're both here.

She reaches into her purse, wraps her fingers around his book, pulls it with shaking hands.

The line is long, _so _long and he's only supposed to be signing for another hour or so. It's taken her this long to get to this point and she doesn't know what she'll do if she can't find her way to him today.

She has to purchase his new book. Some stupid rule that says he's only allowed to sign the new one. She clutches the new one under her thumb, hiding the old paperback in her palm. She'll pull it out at the last minute, dares them to stop her.

She's ten deep in line when it reaches the top of the hour. His blond publicist makes an announcement about the close of the event, but the sound of her syrupy voice drowns out somewhere mid-sentence.

Her heart thuds in her chest as she cranes her neck to watch him rise from his seat, behind the table. She opens her mouth to yell for him, but the words catch as her throat closes up.

She licks her dry lips, wills the words to come as he shakes the hands of the storeowner and a few guards.

He's walking away, almost out of the sight of her vision now. She braces a hand on the red velvet rope as disappointed fans begin to dissipate.

"Rick," she chokes out, her voice raw and tingeing with desperation.

But he doesn't hear her.

She forces her way through the small crowd, griping apologetically under her breath. She brushes past the security guards and she's close, so close—

"Can I help you?" The blond publicist from before steps into her path, perfectly arched eyebrow raised.

"Please, I just—" she says breathlessly before shaking her head, refusing to waste time explaining. "Castle!" she shouts as his retreating back steps through a doorway, away from the prying eyes of customers.

"Ma'am, do I need to call security?"

But Kate barely hears her, can only focus on the way his stunned form steps slowly back into the room, as if he can't quite believe what's heard.

"Oh, Castle," she whispers.

He looks a little thinner and she's sure that his eyes have gotten darker, but she can't help the way her body thrums as she finally gets the chance to fully take him in.

She wants to fly to him, but her feet have decided to remain still.

So she waits. Again.

"Gina, will you ask my mother to take Alexis home? I can take it from here," he says, his eyes never leaving Kate, gazing at her in wonderment.

"But—"

"Gina," he says warningly.

The thin woman stalks away, muttering under her breath.

"You're really here," he whispers.

"I'm really here." She manages to take a step forward, swallowing hard. She shoves the old paperback into his hand, tucking a strand of hair anxiously behind her ear. "I, uh, wanted to get my favorite author to sign it."

He smiles. "I'm really not supposed to sign the old ones."

"Maybe you can make an exception?" she asks, a broad smile finding its way to her lips.

"For you? Always." And then he's pressing against her cheek with his free hand, kissing her fiercely. She gasps, unprepared, and lets the new hardback fall to the floor, clutching the ends of his suit jacket. His hand slips through her hair as she sighs into the kiss, melding her body to his.

Oh, it's been too long.

"I probably shouldn't be making out with you in the middle of a book store when the press is around the corner," he says regretfully, pulling away to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Don't worry about it." She can't bring herself to care about tomorrow's papers when she's too busy reveling in the press of his skin against hers.

He leans down to press his forehead against hers, brushes a hand over her ear.

"God, I've missed you," he rasps.

"I'm so sorry, Castle," she says quietly, her hands sliding up to grip his lapels.

"I told you I would wait and I meant it, Kate."

She burrows her face into his neck and lets out a shaky breath. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

He wraps his arms tight around her waist and she can't believe she's gone six weeks without him. "Actually, I think I have a pretty good idea," he says softly.

* * *

><p><strong>I wasn't in the best of places when I wrote this, so I'm really not sure how this chapter comes across. I'm not above rewriting it, so definitely let me know if it's off.<strong>

**Olivia**


	24. Chapter 24

She doesn't let go of his hand the entire way back to his place, even as he drives. Their hands rest together in the center console, warm and locked. His thumb brushes over her knuckles, knocks the wind out of her a little.

She's missed him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices his eyes slide to her every few minutes.

"You okay?" she asks softly, raising an eyebrow.

He smiles. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Her mouth twitches in amusement. "Your eyes have shifted to me at least four times in the last seven minutes."

He squeezes her hand gently, his eyes shining. "Just making sure I'm not dreaming."

_Oh_.

"We'll talk after we get back to your place?" she suggests.

He nods. "Just—" He sighs. "Would you talk to Alexis first?"

She could slap herself right now. _Of course_. She blushes, slips her hand from his to run anxiously through her hair.

"Yeah. I—oh—of course," she stammers. She shakes her head at her own stupidity, her hand slipping to slide down her cheek.

"Kate," he nudges gently, pulling her hand from her face to press a kiss to her palm. "She'll understand. She already does, a little. I told her you needed some time to yourself."

"I made such a big deal of not hurting her and then I just—" She pauses. "Six weeks."

"You would've hurt her more if we stayed together when you weren't ready."

"Still. I could've at least explained it to her." She sighs.

"I left before you had a chance to do that, Kate. I'm just as responsible here." He pauses. "Alexis really likes you. Kids bounce back. Give her time, if she needs it."

She lets out a breath of resignation as the back of her head hits the seat.

"She'll be just as happy to see you as I am," he promises.

* * *

><p>"The building is gorgeous," she admires as they step out of the elevator onto his floor.<p>

"It's a great place," he concedes, leading her to his apartment, hand in hand. He hesitates in front of the door, drops his hand from the knob.

"What is it?"

"Just," he breathes, shaking his head. His eyes spark as he grabs her waist, pushes her gently against the wall, pressing his mouth hotly to hers.

Well, okay, then.

She lets out a little hum of pleasure, sliding her mouth against his. Her fingers slip over the curve of his ear, skim down the line of his jaw. His hands dance across her hips to settle inside the back pockets of her jeans, pulling her just a little closer. She gasps, tugs his bottom lip between her teeth, sucking gently.

He chuckles deep in his throat before pressing one last kiss to her lips.

She clears her throat, wipes her hand over her reddened lips. "What was that for?" she rasps.

He brushes a kiss to her cheek, lingering there. "I just missed you." He pauses. "A lot."

"Oh, Castle," she breathes softly, resting a palm against his cheek. "I missed you, too." She wraps him in a hug, relishes in the way he holds her, cherishes her.

"We should head in. Mother and Alexis are probably waiting," he says, squeezing her once before slipping out of her arms.

"Ah, right. Your mother," she bites her bottom lip nervously.

"She's a little crazy, but she'll love you." He shrugs.

She raises an eyebrow. "Even after—"

He nods, cutting her off. "She understands. I didn't tell her everything. It's not her business."

She cocks her head. "She's your mother."

He shrugs. "When she gets to know you better, you can tell her if you want. But right now…" he trails off, sighing. "I just want this between us without any complications. She can ask questions later."

_Complications?_

"We can talk about this later, I promise. Let's just get in there so I can see my daughter's face light up when sees who I brought with me." He grins.

She laughs, can't argue with that. She follows him through the door, her eyes widening at the sheer size of the swanky loft.

"Takes some getting used to," he admits. "Mother. Alexis!" he calls as they amble into the kitchen. "You want a drink?" he asks, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. He tips it under the faucet, filling it with water.

She shakes her head. "I'm good," she says, her words quiet under the soft thud of feet clamoring down the steps.

"Grams is takin' a nap, Dad. Where were you?" The blue-eyed girl clomps into the kitchen, notices Kate for the first time. She stops in her tracks, stares at Kate blankly. Kate lets out a shaky breath, smiles full and wide for her favorite redhead.

"Sorry for stealing your Dad away, Alexis. I should've asked you first." Kate steps closer to her, kneels down and reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "I missed you." She smiles.

The girl's stoic expression widens into a shy smile. "You did?"

Kate nods, humming. "Very much."

"And you're feeling better?" Alexis asks hopefully.

"Much better, sweetie. Thanks to you and your Dad."

Alexis' gaze drops to her feet as she shuffles them against the floor. "Do you have to leave us again?" The slight tremble in her voice wraps around Kate's heart, squeezes it painfully.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Kate says, her eyes sliding to Rick's. He gives her a heart-stopping smile, adoration blooming in his eyes. She blushes, turning back to the 7 year-old.

"I'm really sorry that I didn't say goodbye." Kate cups Alexis' jaw, lifting her head to meet her gaze. "Forgive me?" she implores softly.

"Only if you stay for dinner," she says solemnly before her mouth splits into a mischievous smile.

Kate lets out a startled laugh, can't believe she almost forgot how smart his kid is. She grins, shaking her head. "Done."

Alexis wraps her arms around Kate's neck, lets her head on Kate's shoulder. "I'm glad you're back," Alexis says quietly. Kate wraps her arms around her tightly, closes her eyes. She doesn't know how she ever gave this up.

"Me too, sweetheart."

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>

**Olivia**


	25. Chapter 25

**I have so much to do for Finals. But I wrote this instead. **

* * *

><p>"You okay?" he murmurs, sliding his arms around her as she chops the veggies for the salad. She insisted that she help with dinner; she felt useless and awkward perched against the island.<p>

She knows he doesn't want her to feel guilty, but she can't help the way it gnaws at her. She's been uncharacteristically quiet beside him as he stirs the pasta, only speaking long enough to ask him where he keeps the knives and the cutting board.

"Yeah, just…" She cranes her neck to make sure Alexis is out of earshot, who grew tired of watching them fuss around the kitchen. If she's not mistaken, she heard the 1st Harry Potter flick start a few minutes ago. "Thinking," she finishes lamely, giving him a weary smile.

He sighs, brushing a kiss across her temple. "You need to stop beating yourself up over this. She'll be fine," he promises.

She chews the inside of her cheek. "And you?" she asks quietly.

"Dinner smells absolutely delicious, Richard," Kate hears a woman announce as she enters the kitchen. Kate clears her throat, shrugging out of Rick's grasp.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. How rude of me. I didn't realize we had company."

Kate sets the knife down and smoothes her shift anxiously.

"Mother, this is Kate."

Kate smiles, turns to face the older redhead. "It's wonderful to meet you, Ms. Rodgers."

Martha grasps Kate's hand in hers. "Oh, darling, please call me Martha. Ms. Rodgers makes me feel positively ancient. And who wants that in their 50s, I ask you?"

Kate laughs, already taken with the dramatic actress.

"Richard's told me so much about you, dear. I'm sure he's thrilled that you could join us this evening." If the woman is angry about what happened, she's hiding it well. But her tone is warm and sincere.

Kate looks over at Castle, leaned against the counter, watching the exchange with happy eyes and a pleased smile.

"Only good things, I hope," Kate teases, sliding her gaze back to Martha.

"Oh, please. The boy practically worships the ground you walk on."

Rick coughs, spine straightening quickly. "Mother, why don't you and Alexis set the table?" he interjects quickly. "We're almost finished."

Martha hums, sending Kate a wink before fetching the little girl.

Kate moves toward him, cocking her head, mouth twitching in amusement.

"She has a tendency to exaggerate," he offers lamely.

She closes the distance between them, presses a kiss to his shoulder. "I think it's sweet," she says softly.

He grins. "In that case, the woman speaks the truth."

She places a hand on his chest, fiddling with his buttons. "I think pretty highly of you, too, Mr. Castle."

* * *

><p>"Can Kate come to the park with us, tomorrow, Dad?" Alexis asks around a mouthful of bread.<p>

"She might have to work, sweetie," he says, squeezing Kate's knee.

"Actually, I have tomorrow off." Kate pauses. "I start at the 12th Precinct's Homicide Division in a few weeks."

"That's great," Rick says proudly. "We'll have to celebrate tomorrow." He hesitates. "Unless you have other plans?"

She shakes her head. "Free as a bird."

"Grams, you should come with us. It'll be fun," Alexis promises.

"Oh, I wish I could, but I've got my acting class tomorrow."

"And we know she needs the practice," Rick whispers to Alexis, hiding his mouth from Martha. Alexis giggles behind her hand.

"See if I invite you to my next play," Martha huffs.

Castle clutches his chest dramatically. "How ever will we survive?"

"I'd love to see you in your element, Martha," Kate says, throwing Rick a look.

"Suck-up," he mouths.

"That's very kind of you, dear. I'll be sure to let you know after I sign on for my next role."

Kate smiles, takes the last bite of her salad. "Sounds great."

"Can you stay for a movie, Kate?" Alexis asks, polishing off her glass of milk.

"Actually—"

"Kate and I have a few things we need to talk about, Alexis. Just a few grown-up things." He checks his watch. "It's almost bedtime, anyway."

Alexis sighs. "Okay."

"We'll spend all day together tomorrow, Alexis. I promise. Maybe we can watch a movie, too. I haven't seen Harry Potter yet," she admits.

Alexis's eyes light up. "It's so good," she says reverently.

Kate laughs. "It's a date. I'll even bring ice cream." She waggles her eyebrows.

"Don't forget the gummy worms," Alexis warns.

Kate smiles. "Got it."

Martha starts to pile their plates on top of each other, collects their empty glasses. "Kiddo, why don't you help me with the dishes while these two talk, hmm?"

"Mother, you don't have-"

Martha waves her off. "Nonsense, Richard. You and Kate cooked us a lovely meal. It's the least we can do." She and Alexis traipse off to the kitchen, leaving them alone.

"Come on. We can talk in my office, where all the magic happens," he jokes, holding out his hand. She rolls her eyes, smiling, and takes his palm as he leads her away from the table.

"This is great, Castle," she admires, her eyes glancing around the office.

He smiles. "It's a great atmosphere to write in."

"I can see why," she replies, running her fingers over the titles of his books. "Have you written much lately?"

He hesitates. "Not exactly. I haven't…felt all that inspired lately."

_Oh_.

He watches her face fall and backtracks. "My new one just came out, so it's really not a big deal at this point. If a month passes and I still don't have anything written, then there's a problem." He pauses. "But I anticipate a bout of inspiration right around the corner," he says, keeping his tone light.

"And this would be the part where I apologize again for the way I treated you."

"Kate—"

"No, it's—" She sighs. "I needed the time, Castle. These last six weeks—I needed them. And I'm so grateful you gave me space, but I could've handled our situation better." She tugs at her lip. "I could've found a way to keep in contact, especially with Alexis, and maintain my distance. So while I can't apologize for staying away, I can tell you how deeply sorry I am for hurting you and your daughter," she finishes softly.

He nods, grateful for her apology, but something lingers in his eyes. He leans against his desk, keeps his eyes trained in front of him, deep in thought. She cocks her head, shuffling toward him, but he doesn't meet her gaze.

"Hey," she prods gently. "What is it?"

He shakes his head. "It's not important. You're here now,"

"If something's bothering you, then I wanna know about it," she says firmly.

He runs a hand through his dark hair, scrubs it over his face. "Just." He sighs. "Why'd you push me away, Kate?"

Hmm. She should've seen this one coming. "It's not a reflection on you, Rick. You've been wonderful. But," she shakes her head, "I haven't had anyone to lean on in a really long time. After my mom died, my dad lost himself in the bottle and I depended on myself to get through everything."

"You can trust me."

"It's not a matter of trust. When we met, I already had an established pattern. I'd already learned to deal with everything on my own."

"Which hasn't seemed to work out all that well," he says.

"No," she agrees. "Which is why I've been seeing a therapist for the last six weeks."

"Does it help?"

"Seems to." She gives him a small smile, reaches up to rest her hand upon his cheek. "I was thinking, that if you wanted to, you might…"

"What?"

She lets out a breath. "Maybe you want to come with me sometime soon?"

He smiles. "Yeah?"

She nods, leans in to rest her head against his. "I really, really like you, Castle. So if this is going to help us make this better, then what do we have to lose?"

He wraps an arm around her waist, tugs her closer. He kisses her gently, soft and tender. "I'd love to come with you."

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>


	26. Chapter 26

**Just a little short chap before tomorrow's episode. I really have no business writing this with all the work I have to get done. Le sigh.**

**For Em, whom I miss already.**

* * *

><p>"I should go," she says through a yawn, snuggling closer to him despite her words.<p>

He brushes a hand through her hair, kisses her head. "You're coming back tomorrow. Why don't you just stay?" he asks softly.

She turns in his arms carefully, her body slipping off the couch slightly. His hand slides under her shirt a little, his large palm pressing against her bare back.

"Sounds tempting," she confesses, caressing her lips over the stubble on his jaw. The hand that rests at his hip trails back, traipsing lightly over his bottom. "Will we be…_just_ sleeping?" she murmurs against his lips. He sighs against her, pressing her body further into his.

"We should wait," he says, delving his fingers further into her silky locks.

"You sure?" she breathes, her nose brushing against the line of his jaw, her lips leading in a path down to his neck. She nips at a spot below his ear, shudders deliciously as he groans deep in his chest, his fingers tightening, scraping against her scalp. She feels the need—the _want_—curl inside her, fisting her insides.

"God, Kate," he rasps. He tilts her head gently, pulls her away from his neck. He captures her mouth with his, sliding his mouth against hers, breathing, drinking her in. She gasps against him, palming his bottom with her small hands. He shifts slightly, pressing her body further into the couch. His hands leave her hair as she nips at his mouth.

Warmth spreads through her body, flushing, as his hands roam across her back and brush against her thigh. She trembles, lifting her free leg to his waist, pressing him further into her.

"We can't do this tonight," he mumbles against her lips.

She rocks against him on a whimper, bites his lip harshly. "Then stop teasing me," she grates, scraping her nails against his back.

He chuckles, dark and deep, slips his mouth from hers. "Soon," he promises, sweeping a kiss across her forehead.

"Never thought my own boyfriend would be responsible for cockblocking," she huffs.

He stills against her, lets out a small, surprised breath against her cheek.

What?

She furrows her eyebrows in confusion, presses her palms against his cheek to lift his gaze to hers.

The adoration, the light—it takes her breath away. He brushes his thumbs against her cheeks, presses a soft kiss against her swollen lips.

"Boyfriend," he says quietly, reverently.

_Oh_.

She had said that, hadn't she?

She tugs at her lip through a smile, pleased that she's made him so happy with just one word.

"Yeah," she says softly. "You okay with that?" she asks, slipping her hands through his hair.

He leans into her, brushes his nose against hers. "_More_ than okay."

She sighs in contentment, wants this feeling to last forever—of him, of her, _together_, here, in this moment.

She swallows three words in her throat because it's still too soon and their wounds are still too fresh. But she's okay with them resting in her chest for now, ready to bloom when it's time. She can wait, _will _wait until they're both ready for it.

She waits for the realization to scare her, waits for her body to seize up, clench under his touch.

But it doesn't.

"Let's go to bed," she says, kissing his nose.

"You realize that you've just made it _that_ much harder to turn down your proposition? That was your plan all along, wasn't it? Call me your boyfriend so that you can have your way with me?" he teases, lifting his body away from hers.

She laughs. "You caught me, Castle. All a part of the plan." She rolls her eyes, swings her legs to the floor. He takes her hand, pulls her to her feet. "Did it work?" she asks, toying playfully with the buttons on his shirt.

"Almost," he admits.

"My powers of seduction are really that bad?" she jokes, dropping her hand from his shirt. He leads her toward his room, flicking the light off on their way out.

"Uh, no. Those seem to be _fully _functioning," he says wryly, stepping through the threshold to his bedroom. "I just…"

"What is it?" she asks softly.

"Promise not to laugh?"

"I will promise no such thing."

He huffs indignantly as she brushes a kiss across his chest to soothe his ego. She lifts her eyes to his then, waiting.

"I want it to be special," he confesses quietly, lifting his hand to cradle the side of her face.

"It could never be anything but, Castle," she breathes, sliding her hand to cover his. "And…" she trails off, blushing. "As much as I want you—" she lets out a breath, shakes her head. "I feel the same way."

His mouth stretches into a smile. "Soon."

"Soon," she agrees.

* * *

><p>She slides in next to him, clad in his teeshirt and a pair of his boxers. "Comfiest bed ever," she appreciates, fingering the smooth sheets.<p>

"Your bed can't be that bad."

"Nothing compared to this," she admits. She lifts her head, grabs his arm to slip under her neck. She burrows into his side, rests a hand on his chest.

"I wouldn't have pegged you to be much of a cuddler," he confesses.

"Too much?" she asks, already starting to pull away from him.

"Get back here," he growls, tugging her close. "I didn't say it was a bad thing. I'm just surprised." He shrugs.

"I'm not usually, but," she nestles her head into his neck, inhaling his scent. "You make me feel safe."

He brushes his hand up her arm, kisses her hair. "Still having nightmares?" he asks softly.

"Sometimes." She hesitates. "They were pretty bad for about a week after you left."

"Oh, Kate."

"They've gotten better since I started therapy."

He sighs in relief. "That's good." He pauses. "Promise me something?"

"What?"

"Call me the next time you have one?"

"Castle, you don't have—"

"Please, Kate."

She lets out a breath. "Okay." Then. "I promise."

"Thank you," he murmurs.

Her eyes flutter closed as she seeks out his hand under the covers. She laces her fingers through his, squeezing gently.

"Always," she mumbles sleepily.

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>


	27. Chapter 27

He clasps her hand in his, rubbing rhythmic circles over her knuckles. She's nervous and he picks up on it, sees the line in her shoulders, the crinkle in her forehead, the way she twirls with the ends of her hair.

He notices everything. It's one of the things she loves about him.

"We don't have to do this, you know," he says softly.

"I want to. You—"

"—will be fine. We've talked about this, Kate. This isn't supposed to be painful."

She silences him with a light kiss, squeezes his hand. "I want to do this for us, Castle. That doubt that lingers in the back of your eyes? I want it gone."

He swallows hard. "Okay. But if you feel like—"

She smiles. "I'll let you know."

It's been a week since she made the appointment, eight days after she slept in his bed for the first time.

She'd been so ready to bring him here, to lay it out on the table, but now that she's here—

She wants to throw up. She barely managed to swallow a few bites of toast this morning and she left without any coffee in her system.

Which probably isn't helping matters.

"Anything good in there?" she asks, resting her chin on his shoulder as he flips through a cooking magazine.

He shrugs. "Nothing spectacular. I'm cooking up an idea for a new breakfast food, though."

She smiles into his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"A smorlette."

She raises an eyebrow. "A what?"

"Eggs, chocolate, and marshmallow." He looks up from the page and gives her an excited smile.

"I certainly hope you're not planning on trying that out on me, Richard Castle."

His smile fades a little. "Why not?"

She nudges his shoulder. "Because it sounds absolutely disgusting, that's why."

"Beckett," he whines.

She makes a face. "Make Alexis try it."

He lets out a surprised laugh. "You won't eat it but you'll feed it to my kid?"

"She'll bounce back," she huffs. "Besides, you two have similar tastes in twisted ice cream combinations." She rolls her eyes. "She'll probably love it."

"You might be right," he admits.

She narrows her eyes playfully. "When am I not?"

"Oh, don't get me started," he teases. She laughs, gently shoves him as he wraps a hand around her wrist and tugs her closer.

"We're in the middle of a doctor's office, Castle," she says softly, nudging her nose against his cheek, anyway. She loves touching him. Ever since their almost-night a week ago, she has a hard time keeping her hands off him.

Not that he complains, of course.

"And yet…" he trails off, latching his mouth onto her lips. She curls her hand around his jaw, sighing gently as her body curves slightly into his. Her other hand scrapes against the inside of his wrist as he pulls away, tugging on her bottom lip one last time.

She swallows the words again, quells the urge to slip her mouth against his cheek and whisper them into his ear, send a shiver down his spine.

She can't. It's too soon.

But she doesn't know when the _right_ time is.

How do you measure love, anyway?

He's her first. The realization punched her in the gut several days when she watched him push his kid on a swing, his eyes light with joy. She couldn't tear herself away from them, even if she wanted to. She sat back, content to watch for a while, but she was on her feet in moments when they reached the slide. She watched from the bottom, waited for them to slide down together, despite Alexis' insistence that she was too old to ride down with her father.

They were so adorably awkward, squished between the press of metal against their thighs.

When they made it to the bottom, he grabbed her hand and tugged her up the stairs, leaving Alexis at the bottom, giggling at their show.

"I am _not_ sliding down this with you," she said adamantly, throwing him a look.

"It'll be fun," he promised. "Live a little, Beckett," he said, the corners of his mouth turned in the most glorious smile she's ever seen in her life.

That's when it hit her. She'd do anything to make him happy, do anything to keep that smile on his face, especially if she's the one putting it there.

"You okay?" he asks now, brushing his fingers against her cheek.

"Yeah, I'm good," she says, a little breathless. His smile is a little smug, pleased with himself to instill such a reaction to her.

She doesn't tell him that the kiss is only half of it.

"Katherine Beckett?" Kate turns her head to an aging female secretary clad in an atrocious plaid skirt and a green t-shirt. "Dr. Hiller is ready for you."

She lets out a small, shaky breath and tugs gently on his hand. She follows the woman down a long, beige hallway. The walls are bare and cold, something she still hasn't managed to get used to. His hand presses against her back now, warm and reassuring.

Her insides unclench a little as they step inside the comfy room. There's no couch, which Kate took immediate relief in during her first session. She hates the idea of being a _patient_, lying on some couch while a bespectacled psychiatrist takes notes, hovering over her head.

There's a vase of fake flowers in the window and a few paintings on the wall, surely meant to soothe and calm. She'll never admit it, but it makes her feel better. She plops down in a cushioned rocking chair, the place she's sat in since she first started coming.

Creature of habit.

He settles down in an armchair a few feet away, a small table separating them.

She smiles at him in the silence, wants to kiss the worry from his eyes, but she feels it, too. It doesn't gnaw at her, but it floats just above the pit of her stomach.

"Sorry about that. I'm a little behind." Dr. Hiller shuffles through the door, carrying two plastic cups. Kate's eyes flick to Castle, gauging his reaction. His eyebrows lift in slight surprise.

Yeah, Jen doesn't exactly fit the stereotype.

Her wavy hair hangs down her back, held in place by a pair of sunglasses; her bangs frame a young, friendly smile.

If she weren't Kate's therapist, she'd like to think that Jen would be someone she'd be friends with.

"Here's your water, Kate," she offers, handing her the red cup.

"Thanks," Kate says gratefully, taking a sip.

"You must be Mr. Castle," Jen says kindly, holding out her hand.

"Please call me Rick, Dr. Hiller." He gives her a soft, hesitant smile, shaking her hand.

"In that case, you can call me Jen." She smiles. "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee?"

He shakes his head. "Thanks."

Jen settles in a few feet away from them, comfy in a leather office chair. She crosses her legs and lets her hands rest lightly on the arms of the chair.

"Shall we get started?" she asks. Kate nods, sets her cup down on the table and meets his eyes, sends him a reassuring tilt of her lips. She's too anxious for a full smile and she knows he'll see through it, anyway.

He always does.

"Let's start simple. Why are you both here?" She pauses.

Kate shifts in her chair, runs the tips of her fingers through her hair, just above her ear, before they fall down to her side, wedged between her thigh and the chair.

"I want him to be a part of this," she says quietly.

"A part of what?" Jen prods gently.

"This-this life that I've been living. I've, uh—" she sighs, feels her face flaming under the weight of her anxiety. "I've kept it away from him. I think—I've forced him on the outside?" she asks, letting her gaze drop slightly as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Is that how you feel, Rick?" Jen prompts, resting a hand against her face.

He deflates a little, his spine curving into the chair. "I wouldn't put it quite like that." His eyes find hers, tender and soft. "But yes. I think about it."

Kate swallows hard, her fingers twitching at her sides. She wants to go to him, wants to wrap her arms around his neck and breathe and _be _and—

Yeah, it gnaws at her a little bit now.

* * *

><p><strong>A couple of things:<strong>

**1) I don't know if anyone was expecting me to work Burke in here, but I obviously chose to go a different route here. The setup I used here is based on my own experiences with it. I felt like I'd be able to convey everything better if I used my own knowledge. **

**2) I obviously still have stories to tell. And while I haven't exactly figured out a stopping point, I'd appreciate it if you guys would let me know if you felt like it was dragging or getting stale. I don't know that I trust my own instincts as to how far I should take this.**

**If I don't fall asleep before then, I should be posting a one-shot in a few hours, so look for that if you're interested.**

**As always, I'd love to hear from you.**

**Olivia**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: As I started this chapter, my grandpa was planting 16 rows of sweet corn. I'm so clearly nowhere near Hollywood…**

**For Em, Joy, and Jade. Just because.**

* * *

><p>"You've spent all this time helping your father through his pain, Kate, that you haven't had time to grieve on your own."<p>

Kate nods slowly, swallowing a lump in her throat.

"I know we've discussed this since you started coming here, but it's _okay_ to need Rick. No one expects you to do this on your own," Jen pauses, tilting her head to read Kate.

"I'm not sure your father is yet in a position to be able to help you," Jen says gently. "But from what I've seen from Rick," Jen tilts her head towards Castle and smiles, "he seems like the perfect person to help you."

"You don't have to do this alone, Kate. I'm here," he interjects softly.

"But you have to be willing to accept help. It'll make you a stronger person, Kate, not a weak one."

Kate shifts in her hair, swipes the back of her hand across her eyes. "I don't know where to start," she admits.

"Talking's always a great start. Don't isolate yourself because you think you need to deal with it alone. It's only going to hurt you in the long run."

Kate soaks her words in, sighing in exhaustion. Jen's right, of course she is, but she—

She's worried about losing him. She doesn't know the person he cares about, isn't sure _how_ he sees her. How can he lo—care about someone who struggles so deeply?

She feels Castle's eyes on her, gentle and worried. "For what it's worth, Kate..." He lets out a breath and his voice is soft and reverent. "I think you're extraordinary."

Huh. She ducks her head, biting her lip as she feels her face flush at the compliment.

"Nothing you could do would make me think any less of you."

Oh, how she wishes they were alone so she can wrap her arms around him and never let go. She can't believe how lucky she is to have found him, can't believe that no one else has snapped up such an incredible, beautiful man.

_Oh, Castle._

"Well, unless you killed someone. But I might help you bury the body, anyway."

She laughs, loves the way it catches her off-guard and sucks the tension right out of the room. He grins and it reaches his eyes, forcing the light back into his blue irises.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Jen remarks wryly, suppressing a smile. She pushes her chair back toward her desk and makes a few notes, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. Kate watches as she pauses, pen hovering above the paper. She's silent for a moment before twisting her torso to face them again.

"I hope I'm not overstepping here, but you two seem to really have something special. The way you look at each other…" She trails off, hesitating. "Don't let this come between you, okay?" She smiles a little, doesn't wait for them to respond before turning back to her desk briefly.

_Oh. _

Kate's heart clenches deep in her chest, aching all the way through.

"All right, you two. Rick, it's been a pleasure." Jen shakes his hand firmly, smiling softly. "Hopefully one that we won't have to repeat for a while," she teases before turning to Kate. "Same time and place next week?"

"Sounds good." She pauses, lifts her lips in a small smile. "Thank you."

Rick eases out of his chair and offers his hand to Kate. She slips her palm into his and laces their fingers together as he pulls her to her feet.

"It was nice meeting you," Rick offers kindly as they slip out of the office, hand in hand.

"Want me to take you home?" he murmurs against her forehead, his arms wrapped loosely around her as they lean against the passenger door of his car.

She nods. "Do you have to get back to Alexis right away?"

He shakes his head. "She's at a slumber party tonight. It's Paige's birthday."

Kate closes her eyes, lets her body sag against his in slight relief. She doesn't want to let him go tonight, but she'd never keep him away from Alexis.

"You hungry?" he asks, brushing a hand over her forehead, pushing her hair out of her face.

"A little. Wanna order in, watch a movie or something?"

She feels him smile a little against her head. "Sounds perfect."

* * *

><p>"They forgot the egg rolls again." She sighs, checking the contents of the brown bag once again.<p>

He frowns. "Again? Do you order for them a lot?"

She shrugs. "They're pretty cheap and the food is good. I'll call the manager or something. It's the second or third time this is happened in a few months." She sticks her thumb between her lips, sucks off a bit of sweet and sour sauce.

"There's a great place in my neighborhood. Remind me to give you the number for next time."

He settles in next to her on the couch, kicking his shoes off beneath the coffee table. She flicks through the channels, settles on a movie marathon on TBS.

"Julia Roberts?" he asks in surprise.

"Yeah, is that okay?" She picks up the remote and hands it to him, shrugging. "We can watch something else."

He shakes his head. "No, it just…surprises me, that's all."

She nods slowly, picking at her food with a chopstick. "The first movie that I ever remember watching with my mother is _Steel Magnolias._" She pauses, smiling a little sadly at the memory. "I've never seen her laugh a_nd_ cry so much during one movie."

He slides a hand over to rest against her thigh, squeezes gently. "It's a bit of a tearjerker," he admits.

She lets out a huff of surprise. "You've seen it?"

"My mother's a huge fan of Shirley MacLaine," he explains.

She nods. "She's great."

"My mother or Shirley MacLaine?" he half-jokes.

She smiles. "Both."

"I'll be sure to pass that along."

"Will it score me a few points?"

"You don't need any. You've already got an A in her book."

She tugs her lip between her bottom teeth. "Yeah?"

He sets a carton down, wipes his mouth with a napkin. "She thinks you're wonderful, Kate." He pauses. "Just like I do."

Her breath stutters in her chest as he catches her off-guard with more sweet words that she isn't sure she's deserving of.

_Extraordinary? Wonderful?_

She discards her food as well, no longer hungry. She grabs the throw that lay across the back of the couch and tosses it over them as she cuddles into his side.

"You know I think the world of you, right?" he asks softly, brushing his thumb against her jaw.

"I'm starting to," she says quietly, twitching her lips to kiss the space between his thumb and forefinger. She slides her arms around his waist and rests her chin on his chest, looks up at him.

"Thanks for coming with me today."

He slips a hand through her hair. "No place I'd rather be."

She groans softly, ducking her head into his chest. "No wonder you're a writer."

He chuckles. "Why's that?"

She lays her cheek against his heart. "You never waste words or mince them. Everything is….deliberate. Honest. Even the way you speak," She pauses, lets out a breath. "It's beautiful, Castle."

His hand trails lazily up and down her arm. "They're just words, Kate."

She shakes her head. "When they come from you, Castle, they could never be 'just words.'"

He smiles, eyes light, full, and happy. "I'll keep that in mind."

Her breathing quickens, the words she so desperately wants to say on the tip of her tongue. She swallows them, memorizes the look on his face—the shine of his eyes and the tilt of his mouth—and promises that it's enough for now.

He cards a hand through her hair, slipping his fingers through the knot at her skull. He tilts her head gently and leans in to suckle gently on her lips, capturing her pink mouth with his.

She scrapes her nails against his stubble, runs her hot mouth over his cheek as she breaks away from the kiss.

"Maybe it's too soon, but—" he cuts himself off breathlessly, his words lingering in the shell of her ear.

She lifts his hand and threads it with hers, presses it against the beat of her heart. "I feel it, too."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sick (again) and reviews will heal me faster than any cold remedy. ;)<strong>

**Olivia**


	29. Chapter 29

**Thank God AWM is our showrunner and not Shonda Rhimes. **

***sobs quietly in a corner***

* * *

><p>It's been days since she's seen him, both he and Alexis. She finally finished her training at the Academy and started as a uni two weeks ago. She's been running herself ragged ever since, eager to prove herself. She loves what she does, thrives on it day after day. The job hums in her veins and it feels <em>so right<em>, like she's meant to do this.

But it does mean that she hasn't been able to spend as much time with them as she'd like, which she hates.

Tonight she finds a vase of colored daisies waiting for her when she gets home. The sun had set hours ago and she's dead on her feet. Thank God she's got the day off tomorrow.

She brings the bouquet to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhales deeply. She smiles, tugging on her bottom lip as she slips the small card from a stem.

_We miss you. _

_Love,_

_Rick and Alexis_

She presses the card into her palm as she fishes her phone out of the pocket of her blues. It's definitely too late to call, but she just wants to hear the sound of his voice, groggy and sleep sated.

He hums sleepily before greeting her with a raspy "Hello."

"Hey, handsome." She slips her shoes from her feet, tosses them inside the open closet.

"Kate? What time is it?"

"It's late. Really late. I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice," she confesses, slipping her fingers over the buttons of her shirt.

"I'm glad you called. I miss you," he says softly. She hears him shuffling in bed, nuzzling further into his soft pillow. She imagines him closing his eyes on a sigh, his phone resting between his ear and the pillow, leaving his hands free to slip between the cold sheets.

"I miss you too," she admits. She kicks out of her pants and collapses on the bed, clad only in her white undershirt and underwear.

"But you have tomorrow off, right?" he asks through a yawn.

Her fingers slip through the edges of her hair, billowed across the pillow.

"Yeah." And then, "Shall we make a day of it?"

He scoffs. "I'm insulted by the question, Beckett. I haven't seen you in _days_, so you better get your ass in gear tomorrow."

She laughs, gentle and tired. "Nothing too taxing though, okay? Tomorrow's Sunday and I'm beat."

"You tryin' to say that my kid and I wear you out, Beckett?" he murmurs.

"Yes."

He huffs. "See if I send you any more flowers."

She chuckles, shifting onto her side to get more comfortable. "I loved them, by the way. They're beautiful."

"You're welcome."

"I don't recall saying thank you," she retorts.

"It was implied." He pauses. And again, "You're welcome." His teasing warms her inside, cloaks around her as if he's there with her now.

She can't help but dish it right back out.

"You're kind of insufferable, Mr. Castle."

He groans. "You can't expect much out of me at this hour."

Ah, right. She woke him up. "Yeah, I should let you go back to sleep," she says, biting the inside of her cheek guiltily.

"Talk to me til we fall asleep," he suggests quietly.

It's a suggestion that would normally make her roll her eyes (they aren't teenagers, for God's sake), but because it's him and it's just _sweet _and perfect, she doesn't protest in the slightest.

She sighs, happy and sleepy, reaching across her bed to flick the lamp off, cloaking her bedroom in complete darkness with the exception of a sliver of moonlight that pokes through a curtain.

"Tell me a story, Kate," he mumbles.

She frowns. "But you're the writer."

"Doesn't make your words any less beautiful."

She latches onto that, sticks it in the recesses of her heart as she begins to spin a quiet tale for him, complete with knights, white horses, and impenetrable castles.

* * *

><p>A soft knock on her door wakes her up the next morning (erm, <em>afternoon<em>), pulls her out of the best sleep she's gotten in a few days. She stretches lazily, lingers to let the streaming sun warm her face before she slips on a pair of pajama shorts to greet her visitor.

She flicks her hair into a low ponytail and brushes the sleep from her eyes as she presses against the door, squinting to get a glimpse through the peephole. She smiles, shaking her head as she pulls the door open for her dark-haired boyfriend and his fair-haired daughter.

"What are you doing here?" she asks as he pulls her into a warm embrace. She ruffles her fingers through Alexis's hair, pulls away from him enough to brush a kiss against the little girl's forehead. "Hi, sweetie," she greets softly.

"Sleeping the morning away wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I told you to get your butt into gear, Beckett," he teases as they step into her apartment.

Alexis rolls her eyes. "He's been antsy all morning."

Kate laughs, cocking her head as she slips her fingers lovingly through the short hairs above his ear. "Is that so?"

He smiles, his eyes light, full, and happy.

"So what, you decided to wake me up yourself?" she asks, rolling her eyes on a smile as she drops her hand from his face and shuffles to the kitchen.

"In our defense, we brought you breakfast." He sets a white pastry bag on top of her counter, grinning proudly.

She raises an eyebrow, slides her gaze across his body and Alexis's. "I don't see any coffee." She folds her arms across her chest, mouth twitching in amusement.

He exchanges glances with Alexis, who sports an _adorable_ grimace.

"They were out?" he offers.

She lets out a laugh of disbelief. "Every coffee shop in town?" She unrolls the bag and pulls out a blueberry muffin, rips a bite from it greedily.

He shrugs. "Coffee shortage."

"You are so full of it, Richard Castle." She tears off a sizable piece and pushes it into his open, protesting mouth.

Alexis laughs, her bright blue eyes shining in amusement.

"You'd never forget my coffee, would you, Alexis?" Kate teases, throwing Castle a look.

Alexis puts on her most solemn face, shaking her head gravely. "Never."

Kate wraps an arm around the girl's shoulder, tucks her into her side affectionately. "Finally someone I can count on."

"Harsh, Beckett," he mumbles around a mouthful of muffin, looking personally affronted.

"Your ego can't take a little bruising, Castle?" She pats his cheek patronizingly. He narrows his eyes at her and she grins, leans into brush a quick kiss against his mouth. His hand is warm and gripping at her hip, attempting to keep her there. She wraps her palm around it and squeezes gently, reaches her other hand up to brush against his eyebrow.

"Later," she says softly, pulling her lip between her teeth as she purposefully flicks her gaze down to his soft mouth and back to his eyes. He visibly swallows and she smiles, blushing as she pulls away from him.

"Sorry about that, Alexis," she apologizes as she notes the way the young redhead stares blankly at an abstract painting on the opposite wall.

"It's not your fault, Kate." Her eyes flick to her father's, mildly annoyed. "Honestly, Dad, didn't anyone teach you to keep your hands to yourself?"

Kate lets out a squeak of laughter, clapping her hand over her mouth at his stunned expression.

"I'll try not to let it happen again?" he asks, unsure. Oh, she loves it. So good.

Alexis hums in disapproval, turns back to Kate. "What are we doing today?"

"Would you be terribly upset if we camped out here for the day?"

Alexis grins. "Movie marathon?"

Kate smiles. "Read my mind. We can order in, build ourselves a nest on the floor." She cards a hand through Alexis' hair, reaches down to cup her chin. "Sound good?" Alexis nods. "Why don't you go check out my movie collection? If nothing works, we'll just have to send your dad out to comb through the rentals."

Alexis beams and scurries out of the kitchen to slide down in front of Kate's entertainment system.

Kate tears her eyes away from the girl, places a hand on Castle's arm.

"What about you? Cool with the plan?" She steps closer, wraps her arms around his neck as his hands settle around her waist.

"More than," he says. He brushes his mouth against her forehead as Kate closes her eyes, sighing in contentment. Longest five days of her life. His lips travel to her ear, where he places a kiss just at her hairline.

"I've missed having you here in my arms," he murmurs, wrapping her in a tighter embrace.

Oh, she's a puddle in his arms. Can't bring herself to care in the slightest.

"I've missed being here," she replies gently.

"Work was good?"

She nods. "Yeah." She bumps her nose against his cheek, lets out a long breath. "But not as good as this."

* * *

><p><strong>I wrote an outtake for this story that gives us Rick's perspective when he finds Kate passed out on her mother's birthday. You can find it on my page; it's called "Deliverance". <strong>

**Obviously, I can only keep up the UST for so long and I'm toying with writing an 'M'-rated outtake. I can go either way, though, so if you have opinions one way or another, let me know.**

**Olivia**


	30. Chapter 30

**Thirty chapters and I'm still amazed by the support for this little story. You guys rock.**

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><p>"Alexis, you're killing me with these movie choices," Rick groans as the little one pops the movie in.<p>

Kate laughs through a small mouthful of popcorn, pats a comforting hand on his knee, under the blanket that covers both of them. It's the third movie of the day and admittedly, one of Kate's favorites. "Not a Willy Wonka fan, Castle?" she asks.

He shudders. "Not a Gene Wilder fan. Gives me the creeps."

"I love it," she says as she lifts up an arm to curl Alexis into her side.

"No one said you were perfect." He shrugs. She lets out a disbelieving huff of laughter and slaps him lightly on the shoulder.

Alexis wiggles uncomfortably in her seat. "Couch is kinda small for three people," she notes. She'd switched positions for each movie, started out lying on her elbows on the floor before she sat on the floor, pressed against both their legs.

Kate slides her hand from the girl's shoulders reluctantly. "You can sit on the armchair. It's pretty comfy," she promises. Alexis leans in and presses a kiss to Kate's cheek before slipping out of her seat to flounce into the big chair in the corner. Kate's face flushes pleasantly, her heart clenching at the girl's consideration.

"Anyway, the first time we watched it, he covered his eyes during the boat scene," Alexis says, rolling her eyes. "Came into my room that night and slept on the floor," Alexis deadpans, throwing Castle a look.

Kate snorts, nudging his side. "Anything you wanna fess up to there, Castle?"

Rick throws a teasing glare towards his daughter. "You are so grounded."

"Because I have _so_ many places to go," she throws back.

He narrows his eyes. "Next time, I pick," he mutters petulantly. Kate's mouth twitches. Big baby. She leans over and kisses him swiftly, pressing her buttery lips against his.

"Pouting is _almost_ becoming on you, Richard Castle." She knocks her head gently against his, a love nudge.

He grins. "So I should do it more often is what you're saying."

She glares at him. "Definitely not what I meant." Kate turns to Alexis. "How do you put up with him everyday?" she jokes.

Alexis sighs. "I think I'm just used to it after seven years."

Kate feigns a groan. "Is that how long it takes? Seven years?" At the girl's responding shrug, Kate sighs, squeezing his thigh gently. "Guess I'll have to wait and see for myself," she says nonchalantly, her gaze purposefully tunneled forward.

She hears a sharp, quiet intake of breath and smiles to herself. She feels his warm palm press against her back as he leans into her ear, his heated breath tingling her senses. His other hand comes to rest above her knee as he trails a finger along the inside of her thigh, dangerously high.

Kate shivers, lets her head fall back just slightly to rest against his.

"Tell me you're coming to the loft tonight," he rasps into the shell of her ear.

_Oh_.

"Work tomorrow," she lets out, trapping his hand at her thigh. She slides it away, laces their fingers together at her knee. She squeezes it hard, the want coursing almost painfully through her body.

"You can sleep over," he says quietly. His nose nuzzles against her hair, breathing her in softly. His mouth lingers just above her ear, driving her crazy as she digs her teeth into her lip.

She shouldn't. She really shouldn't. "I shouldn't," she shakes her head. She checks a glance at Alexis, who's watching the movie with soft, rapt attention, eyes aglow.

"But you want to," he murmurs, his hand coming up to brush against her neck. She nods, swallowing hard as she twists back to him.

"You really want to wait another five days?" he asks, pressing a kiss to her neck, sweetly, reverently. "Because," he starts, bringing his hand up to cup her jaw. He directs her gaze to his and she's startled by the love reflected in his lust-induced dark eyes. "I'm thinking that the time for 'soon' is now, Kate," he finishes softly.

Her breath catches in her throat and she's cursing on the inside because even tonight isn't soon enough. She lets out a soft sigh and leans her forehead against his.

"You're making it really hard to say no," she confesses.

His hand curls around her ear, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "Then don't."

"Throw in some pancakes and you've got yourself a deal."

He chuckles, leaning his mouth in to linger against her jaw. "You're only going to sleep with me if I make you breakfast?" he breathes.

Her eyes slip closed. "That's right," she lets out.

"Would you like syrup or fruit on those pancakes?"

* * *

><p>By eight o'clock, Alexis is conked out on the chair, her head resting adorably on her arm, feet tucked under her.<p>

"You ready to go?" he asks.

She nods. "Let me just get a few things." She brushes a quick kiss against his chest before she slides away from his body, immediately missing his warmth. She tosses the blanket onto him and lifts herself off the couch.

"Hey," he says, grabbing her hand gently as she moves past him. He clears his throat nervously. "Save the fancy stuff for another night. Just us, okay?"

She blushes, nods once before dropping his hand to pad back to her bedroom. The truth is, she hadn't even thought about _that_. She simply wanted to make sure she had her uniform and shower supplies.

But now…

She closes her bedroom door and edges a finger under the strap of her bra. Plain black. She remembers slipping on a matching pair of black lacy underwear, as well.

Nothing overly special, but then again, he didn't want special, did he?

_Just us._

She shakes her head, clearing her mind as she grabs her uniform from a hanger that dangles from her closet door.

* * *

><p>"You wanna help me tuck her in?" he asks quietly, pressing his hand to the young girl's head that rests on his shoulder.<p>

Kate's heart flutters, touched. "You sure?"

He gives her a look. Of course. She smiles a little and gestures with her hand. "Lead the way." She follows him up the stairs, can't help but brush her hand across Alexis' forehead, her fingers slipping lightly through her hair before letting her hand gently drop to her side.

Kate lingers in the doorway for a minute, watching him as he lays his daughter gently onto her bed, slipping her shoes from her feet before pulling the covers up to rest at her chest. He kisses her forehead. "Sleep tight, honey."

Kate joins him then, meets his eyes as he gives her a heart-clenching smile, as if he can't believe that they've made it to this point, all of them here together. She's helping him tuck his kid in and he's looking at her like that, all amazed and in love and—

It's too much and not enough.

She lets out a shaky breath and leans down, kissing Alexis lightly on the cheek. "Goodnight, sweetie," she says softly, her fingers sweeping through her bangs once again. The little girl doesn't stir, though.

Kate pulls away, leaning her head against Castle's shoulder as he wraps a hand loosely around her waist. They watch her sleeping form for a few moments, their breaths slowing to match the rise and fall of her chest.

He kisses her forehead as his hand comes up to brush her arm. "Shall we?"

She nods, pulling away from his body and slipping her hand into his. She leads him down the stairs, kicking her shoes off by the door. Her stomach flutters, in all the best ways, as they sit next to his.

He looks at her tenderly, as if he can tell what she's thinking. She tugs her lip between her teeth, nudges him as they slip out of the kitchen and into his office.

She lets out a breath as they step through the threshold of his bedroom. She freezes in her spot, dropping her hand from his, the weight of what they're about to do crashes over her.

"Hey," he says softly, invading her space with his body. "Talk to me, Kate." His hand clenches the side of her face, breathing her in as his forehead meets hers. "We don't have to do this," he reminds her gently.

She shakes her head. "I want to, Castle." She swallows, capturing his mouth with hers as she slides her hands down his arms, lacing their fingers together. "God, I want to," she murmurs.

* * *

><p><strong>I'd planned on putting the M section here, but time got away from me. Figured I'd split it up since I already made you guys wait 9 days. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up in a few days. Rating will change, too. <strong>

**Next couple of weeks will be insane with my working overtime and trying to keep up with my second job, so this might happen more often than I'd like. **

**Olivia**


	31. Chapter 31

****Note the rating change. If M isn't your thing (what? ;), you can skip this one.**

**This one's for Kate Christie, who was SO much help with this chapter. You have my undying gratitude.**

* * *

><p>She closes the door with her back, runs a hand over her flushed face and through her hair, a smile caught behind the tug of her lip. He sits at the edge of the bed, hair deliciously ruffled, the first two buttons of his shirt undone. He looks at her with hooded eyes as she pushes off the door gently, attempting to disguise her buckling knees into a clumsy saunter.<p>

But his eyes only darken.

She climbs up with him, placing a knee on either side of his legs while still maintaining a semblance of space between their bodies. His hands keep her there, hot and solid against the back of her thighs. She leans in and nips at his lips, soothing with her tongue. Her fingers toy with his buttons, her palm slipping under his shirt to press against his warm, smooth chest.

His mouth opens under hers, slipping his tongue against hers as he slowly trails a hand up her body, lingering over the pocket of her jeans. He squeezes gently, eliciting a deep groan from her. She fists the tails of his shirt in her hands as his hot mouth slides against her cheek, brushing against her jaw. She shivers as he bites gently at her neck. _Right there_. Mmm. Yes.

She lets out a sigh as his hands travel farther north, sliding under the hem of her shirt. The pads of his fingers traipse lightly against her skin as he works at her neck. His touch lights her on fire and she can't help but sink her body into his, letting out a low cry as their bodies meet.

"Castle," she breathes as she slips her eyes closed, carding her fingers roughly through his hair. She drags his head up to crash her mouth onto his again, can't get enough of his lips. Her hands tug at his shirt to remove it from his body. He shrugs out of it quickly before his hands are at her waist again, bunching her shirt. Impatient, she wraps a hand around one of his wrists and slides it under the front of her shirt, slow and sure. Her breath catches in her throat, surprised and aroused, as he cups a breast through her bra.

"You're still wearing so many clothes," he mumbles in a whine against her lips. Her chuckle dies in her throat as he swipes a thumb across her nipple, the material deliciously abrading her skin. She whimpers against his mouth, can't help but rock her body into his, desperate for more.

He tears his mouth from hers and slides her shirt up her body and over her head, tossing it onto the floor. His hands cradle her face as his mouth blooms into a loving smile, taking a minute to revel in the moment. Her body thrums with arousal, but she can't help but indulge him as she presses a hand against his, smiling.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," he mimics softly. His soft blue eyes crinkle with love as he meets her lips for a soft, sweet kiss. His hands fall to her waist, lifting her body from his. She groans at the loss of contact, frowning into the kiss. He laughs softly and moves them so that she lays on the bed, his body cradling hers.

His mouth finds _that spot_ on her neck, laving it with his tongue as she slides her hands across his back, his thighs, his hips—everything in her frenzy. He trails a pattern of light kisses across her left shoulder, his fingers nudging aside the strap of her bra. She sighs as his mouth travels across the top of her chest, her hands coming up to scrape against his scalp.

He presses a kiss against her other shoulder, repeats the same motion.

"Do you have any idea how happy you make me, Katherine Beckett?" he murmurs against her lips, finally slipping the garment completely from her body.

"I—_oh_," she breathes as his palms cup her breasts firmly in his hands. She rocks against his thigh, her mouth sliding to hover in the crook of his neck.

She thinks she has a pretty good idea, yeah.

"You're just saying that because you're getting laid," she jokes on a breath. He chuckles, deep and raspy, as he slides slightly down her body, his mouth perfectly aligned with her chest.

"You don't really mean that," he mumbles, kissing the top of her breast.

She huffs an impatient sigh. "Maybe I do."

He hums low in his throat as he takes one in his mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through her body. She blindly reaches around for something, _anything_, to anchor herself against the overwhelming sensation. Her fingers wrap around the loops of his jeans as she arches into his touch. His hand slides around to the curve of her back, supporting her with a firm palm.

"Get these off," she grates, yanking at his jeans. Her fingers move to the front of his pants, fumbling with the button. In her haste, she brushes her hand against him, hears the groan tighten in his throat as his mouth slips from her breast. She slides the zipper down, slowly, almost torturously. He gasps a little, swatting her hands away.

She laughs, watching with light, happy eyes as he shirks his jeans in haste. He lunges for her again, tangling one of his hands with hers above her head as he sips on her mouth hungrily. "Your turn," he rasps as his hand glides down her side, into the curve of her hip as he flicks the snap of her jeans open. She lifts her body from his bed as he slides them down her legs to join his in a heap on the floor.

His eyes sweep the length of her body, appreciative and reverent. She wants to close her eyes, commit the look to her memory, but she can't look away.

She can't miss this.

His hand cups the side of her face as he swipes a thumb across her lip. She leans into his touch, pressing a kiss to the pad of his finger.

"You're beautiful, Kate," he says softly. She lets out a little stutter of breath, pleased and caught off-guard. She props herself up on one elbow, lifts her fingers lightly to caress his jaw, slip over his cheek. She kisses his jaw, his chin, his nose, as his eyes flutter closed, breathing her in.

"I'm so lucky to have found you, Richard Castle," she breathes against his lips. His fingers tangle through her locks as he melds his mouth gently to hers. She sighs into him, her arousal humming through her as he lays her down again. His hand settles at her waist as he dips one finger into the edge of her panties, sliding slowly to the front. She moans, digs her heels into the mattress to get him where she desperately wants him.

He chuckles, deep and dark, as his fingers finally slide into her wet heat. She gasps, her eyes fluttering closed as she rests her cheek against his.

"I want you inside me, Castle," she says breathlessly, tugging halfheartedly at his boxers. His fingers are doing wonderful things to her right now and she can't—_oh, right there—_focus.

"Please," she pleads, her fingers clenching at the pillowcase tucked behind her head, her body rocking into his hand. She's _so close_, so very close already. She whimpers as he removes his hand to discard the lace from her hips. And then he's out of his boxers and _hmm._

He settles between her legs, smoothes a hand under her thigh. He lifts it gently so she can wrap it around his waist. She bucks into him impatiently, moaning as he slides against her.

"Kate," he warns.

_Oh_, but she wants him _now_, hears herself keening with need. She's lost control of her body, wouldn't recognize the trembles, the hums of pleasure, the _pure want_—if it weren't for the fact that it's him drawing it all out of her.

Her Castle.

She leans into his ear, tugs on it gently with her teeth as she whispers into his ear. "It's time, Castle."

He groans, sliding into her with one slow thrust. He swallows her low cry with a kiss, sweet and brimming with love.

She thrusts up against him as he murmurs against her lips, sweet nothings and everythings that blend together in a haze. His hand gently guides her legs wider, heightening their pleasure. She hums against him, content to sip lazily at his lips as they rock together.

The pleasure pricks at her toes as they curl into the bed, bunching the comforter. Her hums die into breathless pants as the current of sensation works its way up her body, lighting her senses on fire. Her fingernails scrape against his back, needy and reckless.

"So close," she pants, tugging her lip between her teeth.

"Let go," he commands gently, slipping his fingers between her legs. She lets out a low, deep moan as her body arches off the bed, wracking in spasms as he picks up speed.

"_Ohhh,"_ she lets out, quaking against him. He kisses her fiercely, presses his hand tightly to hers as she pulls him under with her.

He whispers her name, sweet and breathless, as his body settles against hers, sated. She lets out a shuddering, contented sigh before kissing him chastely, basking in the feeling of his weight upon her, solid and secure and _right._

He brushes a hand across her lightly perspired forehead, his lips following suit. Her fingers pace the curve of his back, slow, light, and languid as her mouth curves into a gentle smile.

"Hey," he says.

She rolls her eyes, her smile widening into a grin. "You know for a writer, you have a very limited vocabulary sometimes."

"What can I say? You make me speechless, Katherine Beckett."

* * *

><p><strong>I don't really dabble in M, so I'd really love to hear from you if you've got any feedback to share. <strong>

**Olivia**


	32. Chapter 32

**This is really just a big jar of marshmallow fluff to help me cope with the start of my stressful 7 day, 56 hour work week. Grab some chocolate and a graham cracker and chow down. Try not to get a toothache.**

* * *

><p>She wakes up about an hour before she has to get out of bed and start her day. The sun just starts to peak through the window, warms her chilled body just a little. She turns slowly in his arms, finds his face adorably mashed into the pillow, hair sticking up at all angles. She burrows into the cocoon of his body, slips a leg between his, tucks her head just under his chin, breathing him in.<p>

Her hand trails over his hip, finds his hand and locks hers with his.

"Your feet are cold," he mumbles against her head, brushing his mouth briefly over her head in a sleepy kiss. She smiles into his chest, teasingly slips the heel of her foot over his calf. He lets out a whine and flicks his leg away from her. She lets out a light laugh, nudging her nose against his nose.

"Cruel," he says softly, tugging her even closer with a slight push against her shoulder. His palm starts to pace up and down her arm, warming her up in the best way. She sighs and closes her eyes again, pressing a kiss to his clavicle.

_Oh_, she wants to wake up like this every morning.

"Have to get up soon?"

She nods against him. "Unfortunately."

"Wish you had the day off."

Mmm, she does, too. She wants to eat pancakes with Alexis and help him see her off to school before slipping back into his bed, his sheets, his arms until afternoon hits.

"One day I'll play hooky with you," she promises. "But not today."

His hand comes up to play with her hair, twirls it between his fingers. "I wouldn't ask you to do that. I know how important it is to you," he reassures her.

She moves out of the crook of his neck, lifts her head to meet his eyes for the first time since they've woken. He smiles, warm and gentle, as her fingers come up to stroke his cheek gently.

"_You're_ important to me too, you know," she says quietly. He lets out a little startled, happy breath against her lips, his hand slipping from her hair to frame her face.

"Oh, Kate." She almost misses it, the loving, reverent whisper that slips out of his lips and swallows her, consumes her whole, makes her heart pound just a little. She closes her mouth over his on a soft sigh, losing herself in his tender kiss.

"Castle, I—" Her voice breaks on a breath against his lips, her forehead pressed to his.

She's waited long enough; they've waited long enough. They're strong now, the two of them together. It's ridiculous to put it off because of some notion of time, like love has a ticking clock hanging around its neck.

"No rush, Kate," he murmurs. He finds her hand then, laces their fingers together before bringing their clasped hands between them. Her gaze shifts downward, captivated by the way they fit together. Their hands are a little weathered, a little rough with time and weight, perfectly matched. She dips her head slightly to caress their knuckles with her lips.

Her teeth find their familiar spot at her bottom lip as she lifts her head to meet his wondrous gaze.

She lets out a slow breath. "Surely you must know by now how completely in love with you I am," she hedges quietly. He opens his mouth to respond, but she silences him with a finger to his lips, her mouth blooming in a slow, soft smile. "But I know how important words are to you and I can't bring myself to take them from you." Her hand slips around his neck, fingers the small hairs on the nape of his neck. "So I think it's only fair to tell you," she kisses him chastely, "that I love you," she exhales against his cheek, "more than I ever thought was possible," she finishes gently.

Her eyes flutter to find him grinning, wide, open, and happy. She chuckles, bumps her nose against his. Silly man.

"Is it corny to say that I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on you?" he asks.

She laughs. "Yes. And I don't believe _that_ for a second."

"You don't believe in love at first sight?"

She shakes her head. "Lust, sure. But not love."

He frowns. "I knew you were special, though. Does that count?"

Her mouth twitches. "You trying to top my declaration of love, Castle?"

He laughs, caught in the act. "Maybe."

"Really wasn't anything spectacular," she deprecates.

"No?" His hand finds her wrist, presses her palm to his warm chest, which thumps loud in his chest. She blushes, pleased and happy that she can instill such a reaction in him.

The man she loves.

"Surely you must know by now how much I—" he starts.

She interrupts him with an incredulous laugh. "Try again. _Without _using my words." She sends him a playful glare, shaking her head. She can't with him.

He pouts, lets out a dramatic sigh as he crushes his face to the pillow. She rolls her eyes, starts to see a little of his actress mother in him.

"I'll just be here waiting then," she throws back on a forced sigh, turning away from him.

Two can play this game.

After a moment, the bed shifts under his weight as he places a hand on either side of her, lifting one of them to cradle her chin, gently forcing her to meet his gaze.

"My problem," he starts softly, "is that I don't have enough words in my vocabulary to describe how enamored I am with you, Kate Beckett." He sweeps her bangs from her forehead with the brush of his fingers, his eyes full and bright. Her breath catches in her throat as he opens his mouth to speak again. "And with the exception of my mother and Alexis, I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."

Well, then.

"Rick," she rasps and _dammit_ because she's pretty sure he just blew her speech out of the water.

Not that she really cares, of course.

Because he _loves_ her.

She reaches up and captures his mouth, pouring all of her love into him. Her hand snakes around his neck as his hand slides under her back, slipping in the curve of her spine. She moans into the kiss, wraps her leg around his calf to pull him against her.

"Do we have enough time?" he mumbles in his attack on her mouth, dragging his hand down to knead her breast. She bucks against him, breathless and needy.

"We'll make time," she gasps.

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts? I may have to crank up the angst soon to balance this out. ;)<strong>

**Liv**


	33. Chapter 33

**Because McDonald's is not-so-slowly sucking the life out of me.**

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><p>She's going to cancel on him.<p>

Again.

It's almost seven and she promised him a couple of weeks ago that he could take her to dinner, spoil her after the new steps they'd taken in their relationship. They'd finally gotten around to planning it last week after a hectic week for both of them.

But she's had to cancel on him the last three nights because of a case she's been working and she's not sure she can deal with his disappointment another night in a row, understanding or not.

But she has to because she's not going anywhere anytime soon.

"You're not on your way, are you?" he asks quietly when he picks up the phone.

She lets out a breath. "I'm not."

And then there's silence, which cuts her even deeper than the disappointment. His tolerance is starting to wane, apparently.

"Castle, I—"

"I know. You're sorry." But he doesn't sound like he believes it, which is ridiculous.

She purses her lips. "I _am _sorry." She closes her eyes, focuses on the sound of him on the other end, drowning out the din of the precinct. Her colleagues are frantic now, on edge after their perp slipped through their fingers again. She can't leave yet. Not until they find the bastard.

"Just—" He sighs. "Call me when you can make plans. I don't want to keep setting them if you're going to cancel."

"I'm not doing this on purpose," she says testily. He's always been so understanding of the demands of her job and she wonders when he stopped cutting her slack, why he's pushing her like this.

"I know that."

"Do you, Castle? Because it doesn't sound like you do," she bites.

"I don't want to fight with you while you're at work."

"So, what? You want to wait to do this when I get home?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as if he can see her.

"Kate," he sighs.

"I'll call you," she says, swallowing hard. She presses her thumb against the phone to end the call just as she hears him respond, an "I love you," filtering through one end.

She pinches the bridge of her nose, blinks back irrational tears as she hears a member of her team calling for her, requesting a fresh pair of eyes to look over the board. She tosses the phone onto her desk as she slips a few tired fingers through her loosely bound hair and shoves her feelings down into her chest.

* * *

><p>It's an ungodly hour when she finally leaves, almost three in the morning. But they'd finally caught a break, so she went home to recuperate. Her dedication was paying off; she could see it in the eyes of her superiors. She's started to gain respect and momentum, which gives her a little relief. She'd hate to have her personal life suffer for nothing.<p>

She doesn't have to go back in tomorrow unless she gets a call, which she's grateful for. She needs a day to herself to get everything straight in her head, figure out what she needs to do to fix things with him. Her anxiety level is through the roof and she can't help but wonder what problems they'll have down the road when she's even deeper into the job.

When she returns to her apartment, she finds him waiting outside her door, asleep against the wall in a pair of jeans a black V-neck sweater. She stops in her tracks, lets out a sigh, doesn't really have the energy to fight with him now.

He shifts, his eyes fluttering open as he hears her footsteps approaching him. She combs her fingers through her hair, her head a little sore after having it pulled back all day. She stops in front of her door, watches wordlessly as he rises to his feet.

"Hey," he says inanely.

"Hey," she says quietly. She turns away from him then, sliding her keys into the lock and twisting the knob effortlessly. Her fingers slip from it, leaving it ajar as she waits for him to follow her in. She tosses her keys onto the hallway table and kicks her shoes off, wiggling her toes in relief.

She feels his eyes on her and she wonders what he's waiting for. He sought her out, couldn't wait until tomorrow to talk to her and she's not going to be the one to get into this now.

So she waits. For a gesture, for words, she doesn't know.

She leaves him in the entryway to slip into her bedroom to remove the day from her body, unbuttoning her shirt to let it fall carelessly in a heap by the bed. She's got her pants undone when she feels him behind her, not touching, only breathing.

She plays with the hem of her undershirt, her mind flashing to that moment in the kitchen when her father called her out on her nervous tic.

Just like her mother.

Her head falls a little and she presses the heel of her palm to her forehead, wills the tears and the anxiety away. She feels his warm hand settle on her shoulder, kneading the muscles to ease her tension.

She lets it there. For now.

"You should go," she finally says. "Be with your kid."

"She's in bed," he points out quietly. Ah, right.

She nods slowly, steps away from him, feels his hand slide reluctantly away from her body. "Still." She lifts the wife-beater from her body and pulls on an oversized t-shirt. "We can talk tomorrow," she rasps. Her pants join her shirt on the floor as she slips into a pair of boxers.

"Kate—"

"Rick." She pauses, turning to meet his gaze. "Please." She swallows, tries to ignore the way her voice breaks on her plea. "I'm tired. I just want to sleep."

She doesn't know where the emotion's coming from, why the tension seeps into the room, into her body like it does. She can't explain why this little thing between them sinks into her skin, through her bones. She wants to shake it off, it's nothing and it's stupid, but it stays with her.

She thinks he must feel it, too, can tell in the angles of his body, his posture, his eyes, everything.

But then again, maybe she's just imagining it and her insecurity's eating away at her.

She _really _needs to get some sleep.

He doesn't move and she's not going to force him to leave, but she's not gonna talk, either.

"You can stay if you want," she says quietly. "It's late."

He hesitates. "Can I borrow a pillow?"

Her forehead wrinkles briefly in confusion and she knows he missed it. But why—

Oh.

He's going to sleep on the couch.

"You're going to sleep on the couch," she states lamely, pressing a pillow into his chest.

He shifts uncomfortably and God_, _this has gotten out of control. How did she let one argument on the phone turn into _this?_

She pulls back the comforter, waits for him to open his mouth to say something.

"I don't want to sleep on the couch," he manages. "I thought you wanted me there."

Her body sags a little in relief. "I don't."

He allows himself the briefest of smiles, nodding once. "Okay." He slides into bed after her, jeans and all as she flicks the lamp off and burrows her head into her favorite worn pillow.

"I love you, Kate."

She fights the lump that forms in her throat, reaches back behind her to take his hand. She slides it around her waist and shifts back into his body, letting him know it's okay. He nestles further into her and presses a kiss to her bare shoulder where her shirt has slipped.

"I love you, too, Castle."

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>

**Olivia**


	34. Chapter 34

**Just a little interlude before the next part, which has a different tone to it. **

* * *

><p>She wakes uneasily, shivering even under the beam of the late morning sun. She rustles around sleepily, looking for the warm cavern of his body, but comes up empty. She flicks an eye open, still a little heavy under the weight of her exhaustion. He's gone, but the mattress still holds the lines of his body and the pillow has a crease in it where his head lay.<p>

So Sleepy Kate can confirm that he actually slept in her bed and that she didn't imagine it.

And subsequently, didn't imagine their fight yesterday. Real.

It all comes back to her, makes her nauseous in the light of a new day. It seemed important at the time, sticking to her guns and fighting him on this.

But now.

She won't deny that her work _is _important. It gives her purpose, gives her a sense of justice that was taken from her a few years ago when her mom was killed. But when she puts herself in his shoes, it opens her eyes a little. Why wouldn't he be at least somewhat hesitant of whatever promises she makes him?

It'll take time and she'll have to keep proving herself to him, that she _wants_ him and is in this for as long as he'll have her.

She brushes a few tears from her eyes and it's _too early_ for this and it makes her head swim, but he's gone, left her alone to deal with this, them, her, later.

She mashes her face into her pillow, sick of herself and the fact that she's _always_ the bad guy when they fight and he _always _understands and—

Now she's alone in her bed with nothing to show for her pride.

Her fingers curl in the space where he laid only minutes, hours (she isn't really sure) before. She slides her knees up to her chest, cold and aching as she slams her eyes shut, a few tears trailing down her face.

But then the bed squeaks and she feels his side sink a little before the briefest of kisses slides across her forehead. Her eyes slip open as he's spreading one of her old fleece blankets across her, cloaking the comforter.

He left to get a blanket. For _her_. Because he noticed she was cold.

Oh, man.

He doesn't notice her watching him until he's snug under the covers again and turning to her with outstretched arms, ready to cocoon her body into his again.

"You're awake," he notes softly.

She smiles weakly, nodding. "Thought you left," she admits sheepishly.

"You were shivering in your sleep, so I just grabbed that off the back of your couch," he says, swiping a thumb against her wet eyelashes. "You okay?"

She shrugs, isn't really sure, to be honest.

"C'mere," he prods gently, opening his arms. She nestles against him, her head just under her chin, her hands tucked between their chests. She kisses him just in the space above the V of his sweater, gentle and loving. Beautiful man.

His fingers press lightly against her back, tracing calm, hypnotic circles down her spine. She lets out a sigh, deep and a little shuddery as she rests in the crook of his neck, her fingers light and easy against his clavicle.

"What time do you have to be in today?" he asks softly, his hand stopping in its path to slip under her shirt, his broad palm warming her back.

"Captain Montgomery gave me the day off. We closed the case last night."

He lets out a breath, feels his teeth brush against her head in a slight smile. "Have I said lately how proud I am of you?"

She smiles a little, brushes her hand over his heart. "That's good to hear," she admits.

He's silent for a moment, his fingers playing with her hair, soothing and gentle. "I admire what you do, Kate. I don't want you to think—"

She shakes her head. "I don't, Castle. I know."

He kisses her head. "The time commitment—it's just something I have to get used to," he murmurs.

"Just," she sighs, tugging at her lip. She pulls out of his embrace slightly so she can look into his eyes, needs him to know it to be true. "Rick," she starts, her hand curling over his ear. She leans over him, pressing her forehead to his. "At the end of the day, my job is _just_ that—a job. Of course it means a lot to me." She swallows, thinks of her mother, the questions, the injustice. "But it could never mean more to me than _this_," she breathes, her eyes fluttering closed.

As she says it, she's never known it to be truer. She needs him more.

His hand clutches the side of her face, fierce and loving. "Kate—"

"So when I cancel on you, when I choose to stay late instead of spending time with you—" She shakes her head. "That doesn't mean that I'm choosing work over you, Castle."

He brushes his thumb against the line of her jaw, his eyes a little lighter. Loving. "I'm sorry," he rasps.

She shakes her head. "I should've been more understanding," she says softly.

"Me too."

She wraps her arms around his neck and he pulls her to him in a tight embrace. She lets out a shaky breath, glances her mouth over his ear.

They've made it through another fight, relatively unscathed. And while she doesn't look forward to the next one, she hopes her anxiety ebbs each time, that the sinking feeling that _this one_ will end it all fades away.

"So how about that date, hmm?" she asks as she pulls out of his embrace to hover over him. She brushes his hair out of his eyes, a smile pulling at her lips.

One of his hands squeezes her thigh gently. "We can stay in tonight. Rest up on your day off."

She shakes her head. Silly man. "I wanna go dancing and stuff myself with delectable Italian food."

He cups the back of her head, a goofy grin spreading over his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she hums, nuding her nose against his.

"Pick you up at seven?"

She nods, kissing him swiftly. "Don't forget the flowers."

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>

**Olivia**


	35. Chapter 35

She surprises him at his loft around six, an hour before he's supposed to pick her up at her place.

She fidgets with her dress as the door swings open, pictures him with a few buttons of his shirt undone, a tie open and loose against his chest. A vision of a man in love.

"Couldn't wait another hour to see me?" he asks with a grin as he leans his body against the doorframe, twisting the ends of his tie with his fingers.

She rolls her eyes. "Not quite. Thought I'd spent a little time with Alexis before we go," she says softly. Even though their alone time had been lacking lately, she hadn't spent much time with the little girl, either. Not since things had gotten so hectic at work.

His eyes lighten in that way they do when Kate mentions her, like he still can't believe they're their own little convoluted family unit.

"You gonna stand there or are you gonna invite me in?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. He startles, stepping aside to let her float through the doorway.

"She's upstairs," he tells her as she brushes past him, grazing her fingers light and easily against his arm. "Hang on," he growls quietly, wrapping a hand gently over her wrist. She squeaks a little in surprise as he tugs her to him, clutches his arms for purchase. His hands slip over her jaw as he presses his mouth to hers, hot and fierce.

"You look stunning," he breathes in a murmur against her lips. She smiles into the kiss, her fingers curling over his ear.

"Not so bad yourself, stud," she rasps, sliding her palm over his warm, exposed chest. Her body sags into his on a sigh as his lips find her neck, soft and nipping.

"Castle," she hums breathily, can't help the way her hand travels to one of his nipples, eliciting a deep groan that travels through her core.

"We'll never make it out if we keep this up," she points out, yanking at her lip with her teeth as she tilts her head to give him better access. God, the things he does to her.

His hands tighten at her waist, his thumbs scraping against the lace. "I'm okay with that."

She lets out a light laugh. "Liar."

He grumbles something against her skin before she's missing the smooth glide of his lips against her clavicle, her ear, her temple. She lets out a slow breath, calming herself as her forehead rests against his chin.

"Go play with my kid," he says gently, pressing his palm to hers as she tangles their fingers. She smiles, allows her mouth a quick sweep against his cheek before she drops his hand and makes her way up the stairs, leaving him breathless and happy in her wake.

Now pleasantly flushed, she raps on the young girl's bedroom door, peeking her head inside. She lies on her bed, her nose adorably stuck in a book, her feet raised and kicking behind her ponytail.

"Hey, sweetie." Her curious blue eyes poke out behind the book as Kate steps into the room. The warmth seeps into her eyes, fills Kate's heart up as she carefully places the book onto her bed.

"Kate!"

Kate kneels down beside the bed, wrapping her arms around the redhead in a fierce hug.

"I missed you," Alexis sighs. Oh.

"I know, Alexis. I've missed you, too. Work's been really crazy lately." She presses a kiss to her hair.

"Daddy missed you too," Alexis confesses, slipping from their embrace.

Oh.

Kate swallows roughly. "I missed you both. Just gotta work on finding a balance."

Alexis smiles a little, seems satisfied with Kate's answer for the moment. "You look really pretty," she says, eyes widening slightly in awe as she takes in Kate's dress. "Daddy says he's taking you dancing," she says wistfully. "I wish I could go dancing."

"That's why I'm here, silly girl. So we can have our own dance party before your Dad and I go out."

Alexis grins in delight and Kate almost past herself on the back for her quick thinking. She flicks on Top 40 on Alexis' small radio, fighting a cringe as a synthesized pop beat filters through the speakers.

Alexis wrinkles her nose. "Mind if I change it?"

"Please," Kate laments dramatically. Alexis giggles, fiddling with the stations until she finds an old pop-rock station that's more Michael Jackson than Britney Spears.

Kate takes Alexis' small hand in hers and spins her in a twirl, relishing her squeals of delight.

"Can you moonwalk?" Alexis asks her, eyes shining excitedly. Before waiting for a response, her feet move flawlessly across the floor, an MJ protégé.

"Don't tell me your Dad taught you that?" Kate asks. She can't quite wrap her head around Richard Castle dancing like a smooth criminal.

"He wishes." Alexis rolls her eyes. "I've watched a lot of videos." She shrugs, as if it's as simple as tying a shoe.

"Will you show me?"

Alexis eyes her thoughtfully. "Only if you promise to be a better student than Dad," she teases.

Kate laughs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. So precocious. "Done."

* * *

><p>When Castle finds them a short time later, they're stumbling in some modern version of the Electric Slide that Kate has a hard time mastering.<p>

"You gonna be dancing on my toes all night?" Castle asks on a smirk. Kate glares as she slips her shoes back on.

"I'll have you know, Mr. Castle, that I happen to be an excellent dancer," she retorts, poking him in the chest.

"She's much better than you, Dad," Alexis pipes up. Kate raises her eyebrows, cocking her head. See?

"I'll have you know that my nickname in college was 'Lord of the Dance'."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Okay, Michael Flatley. Let's go before we miss our reservation." She throws Alexis a knowing look over her shoulder, winking as she watches her stifle a laugh behind her book.

"Just for that, I'm gonna tell Grams you want to be a _very _active participant in her next dramatic monologue."

Alexis lowers her book, narrowing her eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he drawls, wrapping an arm smoothly around Kate's waist.

Alexis lets out a low, dramatic sigh, pressing her porcelain face into the spine of her book.

Kate's mouth twitches and sometimes she can't believe this kind of relationship exists. She gets to see it with her own eyes, gets to _love _them while they embrace her, flaws and all.

She hugs Alexis goodbye before she leads Castle out of the room, corners him in the hallway with a firm palm splayed against his chest as she works her mouth over his lips. Her body sings deliciously as his thrums vibrate in waves through her body, his hands roaming and squeezing over her back.

"What was that for?" he asks, panting through swollen pink lips.

"I just love you," she murmurs softly, her fingers lingering at the line of his jaw.

His mouth finds her forehead as he lets out a slow breath. "Oh, Kate." He sighs. "I love you, too."

* * *

><p>"We are <em>not<em> going to be those people, Castle," she protests as he holds out a forkful of spaghetti.

"What people?"

"The lovesick ones that feed each other in dimly lit booths in romantic restaurants." His face falls in a pout and _maybe_ she can indulge him just this once. She rolls her eyes before wrapping her mouth around the delicious Italian pasta, moaning softly in delight. Mmm.

His eyes darken before her as he takes a long, cool sip of white wine. She smirks at his reaction, parting her lips as she gently kicks her shoes off. She edges her toes under the hem of his pants, her warm heel brushing against his calf. His eyes widen as he chokes on his wine, spluttering into a napkin.

"Jesus," he breathes as she tugs slyly at her lip. "If you want to make it onto that dance floor at all, Beckett, you'll withdraw your weapons of mass seduction," he growls.

A blush creeps up her neck as she lets out a light laugh, reluctantly sliding her foot out of the leg of his pants and back into her high-heeled shoe. She wants to dance, oh yes, she does, but the way he's looking at her now—

_Oh_. She has half a mind to drag him to the nearest restroom for a little rendezvous to tide them over until the end of the night. She can already feel his hot mouth crushed against hers, the slide of his thigh between her legs as his hand bunches her dress to palm at her backside.

"You're very flushed," he notes suspiciously, his eyes sweeping the length of her body. She lets out a weak laugh, wrapping her fingers tightly around her glass of cabernet. She takes a long sip, willing her body to calm down.

Plenty of time for that later.

"Let's go," she rasps, swiping the alcohol from her lips with the flick of her tongue. She shakily gets to her feet, feels the liquid humming in her veins, sending licks of fire through her senses.

"Where?" he asks, his voice low velvet, dangerous against the shell of her ear.

"A club where I can keep my hands on you all night," she says throatily, tugging nonchalantly on his tie. He groans, fisting his hands against the curve of her waist.

She leans into his ear, lets out a slow, hot breath against his skin. "Try to keep up."

* * *

><p><strong>In addition to DOS, I'm working on another multi-chapter fic called "Dissolution", which you can find on my page. It's a lot angstier (not sure that's an actual word, but), though I don't think you'd be disappointed if you gave it a shot.<strong>

**Thoughts?**

**Olivia**


	36. Chapter 36

**Sorry for the delay. Real life and multiple attempts to chase down Nathan Fillion at Comic Con got in the way.**

* * *

><p>Six months.<p>

Kate's never been one to celebrate _half_ an anniversary for God's sake, but she's never been with anyone quite like Castle, either.

Which is why she probably shouldn't be too surprised when he shows up at the precinct, a bottle of sparkling apple cider (she _is_ on the job) and bouquet of flowers in hand.

"This your man, kid?" Royce asks her as Castle makes his way towards her, a hesitant smile on his face. They've come a long way on balancing work and their time together, but she knows he probably feels a little guilty interrupting her like this.

Kate grins. "It is." She extends a hand towards Rick, slips her fingers into his easily. "Rick, this is Royce, one of my superiors. Royce, this is Richard Castle." Rick drops her hand for a moment, firmly grasping the other man's hand.

"Nice to meet you."

Royce nods. "Mr. Castle. Good to see you in the flesh." He drops Castle's hand and turns to Kate. "One hour, okay, kid?"

Kate nods, thanking him before he slips away to leave the couple to themselves. Kate slides a hand to his shoulder, capturing his mouth in a brief kiss.

"Not that I'm not terribly happy to see you," she murmurs against his lips, "But I thought we agreed—"

"No presents," he confirms. Christmas is only a couple of weeks away, so they both decided to hold off on any gift exchange until then.

She raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the flowers in his hand. "Humor me," he replies, slipping the bouquet into her fingers. She rolls her eyes, but presses her mouth to his in compliance.

"They're gorgeous. Thank you," she hums.

He smiles, brushing a warm palm down her arm. "It's okay that I'm here, right?"

"Yeah," she confirms. "Slow day." She flicks her gaze around the bullpen, struck with an idea. "Come on," she tugs gently on his hand, "I know where we can go."

Ten minutes later, they're on the roof of the precinct, huddling under an old fleece blanket she found in the break room. Not exactly the mildest December day, but it's almost bearable under the weight of her heavy coat and the press of his body against hers. Weatherman called for flurries, but she hasn't spotted any so far.

She breaks off a piece of the chocolate cupcake she retrieved from the vending machine and offers it to him. He wraps his warm mouth around her thumb, sucking the treat from her finger.

"Tell me you don't eat like this for lunch every day," he says, swallowing.

She shakes her head, sipping cider from her black mug. "I usually pack a sandwich or something. Sometimes we order in." She shrugs.

"You and Royce?" he asks nonchalantly.

"On occasion," she says slowly, eyeing him curiously. "Why?"

"You've never mentioned him before."

"When was the last time I mentioned anyone from work, Rick?" she asks, her body sagging a little in exasperation.

"He seemed to know who I was," he points out.

"Because you're important to me." She lets out a small scoff, shaking her head. "I can't believe you're jealous."

He sighs. "I'm not—"

She closes her eyes. "He calls me 'kid', Castle. So what? Everyone's got a nickname around here." She pauses, expels a frosty breath. "It doesn't mean anything."

She opens her eyes to find his cast downward, staring at an empty wrapper that flutters in the wind. "You're right," he says, lifting his eyes to meet hers. "I'm being ridiculous."

"No." She leans in to brush her nose against his cheek, her mouth sliding down to caress his jaw. "It's not ridiculous. I understand."

His hands circle her waist, locking gently behind her back. "You do?"

She nods. "I want to sink my claws into that publicist of yours every time I see her," she admits.

He lets out a stunned laugh. "Gina? That's completely—"

"Ridiculous?" she finishes, lifting her head to flash him an amused smile. "She's pretty."

He shrugs. "She's okay. Nothing special."

Kate runs a finger over the rim of her mug in thought. "You never thought about dating her?"

"I've known Gina for a while. I suppose she has her moments, but she's not the kindest person I've met." He pauses. "Besides, she's not my type."

She lifts her head. "What is your type?"

"You," he replies without hesitation.

Oh.

Well.

She lets out a happy, surprised breath, the corners of her mouth tipping into a wide smile. She supposes she should've expected a similar answer out of him, sap that he is, but it still pleases her, fills her up.

"Still gonna be saying that six months from now?" she deprecates, nudging his side.

He leans into her, sweeping his mouth against her hair in a soft kiss. "I'll say it for as long as you'll hear it, Kate."

Her eyes flutter closed, reveling in the moment of the two of them in the brisk winter air, his arms wrapped around her as they sit in front of a makeshift lunch that's sure to inspire a few cavities. It isn't perfect, not by a long shot, but she's never wanted perfect.

Especially if imperfection involves him.

* * *

><p>"I'm not schlepping your ass to the hospital for salmonella poisoning, Richard Castle," she scolds, wiping her floured hands on her apron as he slips another bite of cookie dough into his mouth.<p>

"You're such a killjoy, Beckett," he whines as she removes the cookie sheet from the counter and slides it easily into the oven.

She glares at him, her hand immediately on her hip in a pose that's a little too domestic for her liking. "I see you've passed on your bad habits to your daughter," she says.

He looks past her at Alexis, who quickly removes her hand from the bowl, a sheepish smile on her face as she swallows the last of her swipe.

He shrugs. "There's enough room in your car for the both of us," he jokes.

She rolls her eyes and grabs a warm cookie from the plate on the counter and sticks it into his mouth. Before she can leave, he wraps a hand around her wrist and pulls her to him, dipping his head into hers. As he waggles his eyebrows, she feigns a sigh of exasperation.

But, yeah, she loves it.

Loves him.

So she indulges him and bites off a chunk of the sweet that hangs from his mouth. And after she licks the chocolate from her lips, she presses a smiling kiss to his mouth.

"You're only rewarding my behavior, you know that? I'm almost disappointed in you, Beckett."

"Then I guess you won't mind if I abstain from any _rewards_ in the future?" she retorts.

She watches him open his mouth in protest before slipping away from him, lingering at the counter to brush a kiss across Alexis' head. "Figured I should reward both of you knuckleheads." Alexis giggles, her blue eyes light and mischievous. So much like her father.

"Can we make sugar cookies next? Dad bought these awesome sprinkles from the store yesterday."

Kate frowns. "The ones on the table? All of them are open..." Kate trails off, her gaze sliding slowly to Castle, who quickly directs his attention away from her.

"Dad wanted to taste test them all. Make sure they were safe for eating," Alexis explains.

Kate crosses her arms over her chest, her mouth twitching as she suppresses a smile. "Is that what he told you?" she asks, watching as he pretends to fiddle with the oven handle.

He clears his throat. "Aren't these cookies done yet? I think maybe the oven's broken. We should really get someone to look—"

"You know, Castle, since you've already opened the sprinkles, I think Alexis and I can trust you to finish the rest of the batches."

He turns around quickly, the stove forgotten. "But there's at least five left," he balks.

"Yeah, but you've got it under control, right? Might as well let you finish what you started." She purses her lips to keep her laughter under control, ducking her head briefly. "Alexis and I'll be in the living room. We're a little behind on our Christmas marathon, aren't we, Alexis?"

Alexis, God bless her, plays right along. Kate takes the redhead's hand, turns her back to his slacked jaw.

"Call us when it's time to sprinkle. Wouldn't want to miss out on the best part," she calls behind her, exchanging amused glances with Alexis.

She turns her back for a second when she knows it's safe, finds him muttering under his breath as he pulls the latest batch from the oven.

She'll give him a half hour at most, but still.

She loves to watch him squirm.

* * *

><p><strong>As we get further and further away from summer, I'm hoping that you're still enjoying this. It's started to take on a life of its own, a product of my disregard for a story outline. So while I have an endpoint in mind (roughly six more months), I'm still a little unsure of the journey there. I'd like to wrap this up somewhere before 50 chapters, but we'll see. <strong>

**As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.**


	37. Chapter 37

**This happened to fit in the timeline, so I went with it. And as I deal with an approaching anniversary of a loss of my own, it seemed fitting.**

* * *

><p>"You gonna fill me in on where exactly you're taking me on a Wednesday afternoon with a suitcase full of <em>my<em> clothes?" she asks him, shivering from the lingering cold as she shuts the passenger door.

"What's the fun in that?" he asks, shoving the key into the ignition.

"Alexis will tell me, won't you, sweetie?" Kate says, eyes glinting as she turns to the girl in the backseat.

Alexis purses her lips. "I wish. Daddy blackmailed me."

"You mean bribed—" he interjects.

Alexis rolls her eyes. "He said if I told you that I wouldn't be able to go," she huffs.

"You're already in the car, aren't ya?" Kate winks.

The little girl's eye twinkles. "We—"

"Don't think I won't turn this car around, Alexis Castle," he warns. His stern tone is ridiculous and Kate almost laughs, but Alexis buys it, buttons her mouth right up.

Kate fiddles with the vents embedded in the dashboard. She's been huddled outside in the cold all day on a job and even though she left three hours ago, she still feels the bite of winter deep in her bones.

"You know I have to work tomorrow?" She briefly rubs her hands together before she shoves them between her thighs, trapping her fingers in the heat of her body.

"You were supposed to work tomorrow, yes," he confirms, one hand delicately balanced on the steering wheel as he shrugs out of his coat with the other. She accepts it gratefully, lays it over her legs as she furrows her brow in confusion.

"What do you mean 'were', Rick? Did you do something?" She doesn't know what he has planned, but if he meddled with her job—

He's silent as the car halts to a stop in front of a light. She sighs before flicking her gaze back to Alexis, who's sliding a CD into her Discman.

"You cleared this with Montgomery, didn't you?" she asks quietly.

"Yes."

She clenches her jaw against his words. "I haven't been there that long, Castle. What gives you the right to ask him for a favor?" she hisses.

He scrubs a hand down his face. "I—" He falters, looks a little sad, and she knows this isn't how he imagined this going at all. "Just thought it might be nice to get you out of the city for a few days." He pauses, hesitating. "Especially with the ninth coming up," he finishes softly.

She deflates a little, slamming her eyes closed. But -

Yeah, makes sense. She hadn't considered that he might have a reason behind his spontaneity (or, what she suspects, was actually not so spontaneous after all). But she's spent the last few days trying to ignore it, put it off for as long as she can.

Guess she can't delay it any longer now, can she?

"What's the date today?" she asks quietly, tugging at her bottom lip as she allows her eyes to flutter open. She stares out the windshield, forces her eyes to focus on the dirty, New York concrete. She hates winter sometimes, hates the way the snow warmly blankets the city for a day before it all turns to filthy ash on the streets.

"It's the 7th," he confirms.

She nods slowly. Yeah, sounds right.

She hears him sigh. "I'm sorry. I—"

"No." She lets out a slow breath, turns to meet his gaze. "It's sweet." She lifts a hand to brush a thumb across his cheek. "And something I probably should've expected after what happened last summer."

"I'm not trying to be your keeper—"

"I know you're not. That's not what I meant." The memory haunts her, that night where she woke up in his house after knocking herself out with a bottle of alcohol. She could never forget the look in his eye—the worry, anxiety, grief.

She shivers. She can't handle a repeat of that, either.

"I didn't think this through enough, did I?" he asks and she can't take the disappointment that brims in his voice. He was probably so excited, probably planned it for weeks, swore everyone to secrecy.

He mistakes her lack of response for agreement. "We're not going far, Kate. I can bring you home if you decide it's what you want."

She shakes her head. "I think it might be good for me," she hedges.

"But?"

"My dad."

He nods in understanding. "You usually spend the day with him?"

"Actually, no," she confesses. "But now that he's sober." She ducks her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Maybe I should." She's never spent the anniversary of her mother's death with her father. She always pictured it in her head, how it would go.

He'd sit in his favorite armchair in the living room, the plaid one her mother bought him for his birthday one year, even though she _hated_ the color scheme, swore up and down that it didn't match a damn thing. But it was the one he wanted, so it was the one he got.

He'd have a bottle of bourbon between his legs. Eyes red, hair unkempt. Kate would probably curl up on the couch, underneath her favorite blanket, stare at reruns of Temptation Lane, unable to escape her grief.

It all sounds incredibly cliché, even in her own thoughts, but she's never wanted to take the chance to see if it would be realized.

But her father's sobriety changes everything.

"I thought about calling him. Inviting him out with us. For the day, at least. But I didn't know if you—" he cuts himself off, hesitating. "Had a routine."

He says it carefully and it's not the right word, it's wrong, all wrong because nothing about this is routine and really, she just wants to stay home in bed all day with a photo album handy and one of his books on the nightstand.

But then her mind flashes to last summer and she pushes the thought away.

"Sometimes I visit her grave, but mostly I go into seclusion," she half-jokes.

He settles a warm palm on her lap. "Say the word and we'll turn back, Kate." He squeezes her thigh. "I just wanted to try to make it a little more bearable for you."

A little more bearable. _Oh_, she loves him so.

She slides her hand out from under his coat and laces her fingers through his before bringing them to her mouth. She brushes her lips against his knuckles. "You did good, Castle," she breathes.

She thinks that maybe letting him into her grief is worth it if she gets to see his blooming smile, so pleased that he's able to do something for her.

And yeah, she can admit that she hasn't done so well with it in the past, that maybe it's time to try something new.

And he might just be the perfect person to help her through it all.

* * *

><p>She drifts off a little during the drive, lulled by the heat that finally kicked in and the hum of Castle's voice against the classic rock station.<p>

But even in her drowsiness, there's no missing her favorite beach town, even under the cover of a few inches of snow.

Back to the beginning.

"You brought me to Jersey in the middle of winter?" she asks incredulously.

"I thought we could use a little quiet, out of the din."

"It's definitely…quiet." She's been here a few times in the off-season and she's always surprised by how much and how little changes during that time. There are no lingering tourists, no ice cream truck bells, no surf shops open til midnight. It's a completely different place.

But all the locals are still around, braving the cold in their damp, creaky houses. They still shop at Joe's, frequent Kate's favorite bookstore on a snowy day, still roam about the streets (though quite a bit more sporadically) with a smile on their faces.

Still recognizable.

"Tell me you packed me a hoodie, at least," she says, her eyes gazing up at the clear night sky as they pull into the driveway.

He laughs a little. "You're not going to freeze, Kate. I've got a fireplace."

"You do?" She pauses, makes a face. "We don't have one." But really, who is she kidding? He can afford a beach house with all the amenities, including a fireplace.

He shifts the car into park, looks thoughtful. "Maybe this isn't what you had in mind." He hesitates, searches for words. "But I just—" He lets out a deprecating laugh, shaking his head. "I had this image of us in front of the fireplace, reading out of an old yellow paperback that we bought from the little place in town. And it's quiet, yes, and a little deserted, but I thought maybe…new memories, you know?"

She lets out a breath, absorbing everything he's saying, everything he _isn't_ saying. She swallows hard.

_New memories to ease the pain of last summer, when she drank herself into a stupor, only to have him find her slumped on the floor, near hospitalization. _

He needs something else. And maybe it won't fix it or erase the memory, but maybe it won't be stuck between them every time her mother's death brings her to her knees.

She realizes that he probably needs this just as much as she does.

Her hand goes to his cheek, slides down to cup his jaw in her fingers. She inches closer, brings her mouth to his in a slow, tender kiss.

"It's perfect, Castle," she breathes.

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>

**Liv**


	38. Chapter 38

**Sorry for the delay. Trying to settle into Los Angeles.**

* * *

><p>She smiles at him from behind her coffee mug, feet snug under her, arms warm under the cloak of his hoodie. He grins, and she can tell that he's happy, so happy, that she's let him do this for her. He reaches for her as he rises from his chair, presses a lingering kiss to her forehead as his fingers trip across her shoulder on his way to the sink.<p>

Her eyes droop a little as she inhales another sip and she should really get to bed, yearns to crawl under the quilt with him, but it brings tomorrow one step closer and she's not sure she's quite prepared.

Even with him at her side.

"Should we just hang out here tomorrow?" he asks softly, interrupting her thoughts. She's quiet for a moment, the coffee cup still in her hand as she brushes her lips against the knuckle of her thumb.

She wants to tell him yes, needs to curl up with him and Alexis here and try to make the best of a shitty day, but—

She wants to tell him no, too, because maybe _that's_ what she needs. Maybe she should get out and have a sandwich with him at the corner cafe or build a freaking igloo with his kid, but she—

She doesn't know.

She lets out a shaky breath, settles her mug onto the table. "I don't know," she admits, pulling her lip between her teeth. She lets it wash over her, tries to be okay with the uncertainty.

She has him. And his sweet little girl.

She could have her dad, too, if she picked up the phone. But she hasn't decided if she wants that, either.

She doesn't know.

"Hey," His breath dances at her ear now as his warm palms find their way to her shoulders, heavy and comforting. "You don't have to have all the answers, Kate."

She closes her eyes at his words, leans into his touch. "I don't know how to do this with another person, Rick," she says quietly. She licks her lips, her throat dry and rough like sandpaper. "I don't want to make the same mistakes again."

She misses the weight of his hands on her as he slides away to kneel in front of her. She gives him a small, exhausted smile, resting her head against her hand as she cards a few fingers through his hair.

"You won't," he promises, blue eyes shining.

Her fingers still in his hair and then they're falling, glancing down the side of his face. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because you won't hurt me that way again," he rasps. And then he's reaching for her, tugging her head gently forward to rest against his. "You won't hurt yourself like that again," he swears on a whisper.

She lets out a slow sigh, hopes to God he's right. She wishes she had the same faith in herself that he seems to have in her.

"I love you, you know," she breathes against his lips, caressing his jaw with the pads of her fingers.

He lets out a breath, angling his head to capture her lips in a tender kiss. "I know," he murmurs. His fingers curl around hers in her lap, squeezing gently. "Which is how I know that it's going to be all right."

* * *

><p>Instead of collapsing into bed that night like she'd planned, she lets him lay her down, encourages his mouth to quest over her skin, his fingers slowly trailing behind. She moans inside the crook of his neck, scraping her nails against his back, holding onto him for dear life as he coaxes the last vestiges of pleasure from her body.<p>

And when he starts to roll off her after pressing one last, lingering kiss to her lips, her fingers wrap around his arm, not quite ready to let him go. He stills, pushes the hair out of her eyes, considering her thoughtfully.

"Not yet," she says hoarsely, her hands slowly sliding to wrap around his back. He nods slowly, breathing shallowly against her as she holds him close. She brushes her mouth against his shoulder on a sigh. _Thank you._

_I love you._

She falls asleep with him inside her.

She wakes up early—way too early—with his open, sleeping mouth pressed against her neck, an arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She exhales slowly, twining their fingers together briefly before sliding his arm to rest beside him. There's no way she's going back to sleep now, but she won't wake him either. He can rest for a while, doesn't need to be worrying about her before the sun has even started to peak through the window.

She shivers as she removes the comforter from her naked body, wincing as she settles her bare feet onto the floor. She slides into her sweatpants before shrugging into the zip-up hoodie he'd had on the night before. She fumbles inside her suitcase for a clean pair of socks and thrusts those on, too.

She's inside the doorway when she stops herself, turning back briefly to hover over his bed to brush her mouth against his. He doesn't stir, but she doesn't expect him to, so she doesn't linger, just shuffles out of his room, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

The ache inside of her is dull now, throbs gently against her ribcage. It's easy to ignore now; it's just any other morning. And she almost believes it as she starts a pot of coffee and rubs her dry lips with a stick of Blistex as she leans against the counter, arms folded as she stares at the window.

And then—

"Kate?" She startles, whips her head around to find Alexis shuffling into the kitchen in her footed pajamas, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. Did I wake you?" She opens her arms as the redhead falls into her on a yawn. She kisses her forehead and lifts her into her arms as she resumes her spot against the counter.

"So tired," Alexis lets out on a sigh, nuzzling into Kate's neck.

"Let's head back to bed, then. I'll tuck you in," Kate promises.

Alexis shakes her head. "No."

Kate frowns. "No? Why not?"

"Don't want you to be alone," she confesses quietly. Kate stills, her eyes slipping closed at the little girls' admission. Oh, Alexis.

"That's very kind of you, Alexis," Kate says softly. She shifts in her stance, settles the girl down beside the sink. "But I'm okay," she promises quietly.

Alexis's arms loosen from Kate's neck as her blue eyes connect with hers, eyeing her skeptically. Kate smoothes a hand over her forehead lovingly, eyes bright.

"Do you miss her?" Alexis asks solemnly, looking up at her with concern.

Kate nods, swallowing around the lump forming in her throat. "I do, yes," she forces out, her mouth sliding into a small, sad smile.

Alexis sighs. "I don't want you to be sad."

"Oh, Alexis," Kate breathes, pulling her in for a tight hug. "It's okay to be sad," she manages, her voice cracking—shaky. Her eyes slide closed for a long second as the tears start to trail down her face. "That's why I have you and your Dad," she rasps, pulling out of the embrace to reassure the young girl.

"I want to help," Alexis says, her blue eyes firm and resolute.

"You help me everyday."

Her forehead scrunches in confusion. "How?"

Kate lifts her thumb to brush the tears from her face. "You have such a big, kind heart, Alexis. You're the sweetest, smartest girl I've ever known and I feel—" she breaks off on shaky breath, gives her a gentle smile. "I feel so lucky to have you in my life."

Alexis smiles shyly, a little relieved. She sighs, leans her head into Kate's chest. "I love you, Kate."

Kate leans down to rest her mouth against her head. "I love you, too, sweetie."

* * *

><p><strong>I know I said 50 chapters, but to be honest, it probably won't last much longer. I don't want to regret this story, but I do find myself struggling with it now. It's my own fault for not plotting it out, but I don't want to ruin it for you guys, either. So while I'll definitely put in 100% to do the ending justice, it won't be continuing for much longer.<strong>

**I love every single one of you that's still reading this. This story will always be my baby. **

**As always, I'd love to hear from you.**

**Liv**


	39. Chapter 39

She wakes to the smell of coffee, her arms wrapped around Alexis, the TV playing softly in the background. She shifts from her spot on the couch, careful not to wake the little redhead. She brushes a kiss across her forehead and pads softly to the kitchen.

He's hunched over the stove, flipping a pancake in flannel pajama pants and a black tee shirt. She smiles, rests her sleepy head against the doorframe, relishes the moment to watch him before he notices her. The coffee drips into the pot slowly, beckoning her like the call of a siren. She stifles a yawn behind her hand and pushes off the wall to give in to her desires.

But first.

She lays her palm against his back, lifting onto her toes to brush her lips against the nape of his neck. Before she can slide away to the appliance in the corner, he wraps an arm around her hip and tugs her close, settling a steaming mug of coffee into her hand.

"'Morning," he greets, smudging a kiss across her mouth.

She smiles gently before indulging in a long sip. "Good morning."

"How you doin'?" he asks, flipping another pancake onto the small stack on the counter.

"All right," she says. "Alexis is a great band-aid," she admits.

He grins. "She's a keeper."

She lays her head on his arm, watching the cakes bubble in the pan.

"You hungry?" he asks.

"Not really." She sighs. "Should probably eat something though, hmm?"

He kisses her forehead. "I'd like to keep you around for a while, so yeah, you should eat something," he says, his light tone slightly easing the ache in her heart.

"My mom used to make us Christmas tree pancakes for breakfast sometimes during the winter months," she says suddenly, doesn't really know where the urge to confess the memory comes from. "She'd sprinkle powdered sugar and pretend it was snow." She smiles at the memory, shaking her head.

"Do you want—"

She shakes her head, cutting off the question that spills from his lips. "No," she says quietly. "Just sharing."

"Okay," he says simply. "But you'll let me know if—"

"Yeah." She reaches down to squeeze his fingers for his thoughtfulness. "I'll let you know."

* * *

><p>She manages to swallow half a pancake and a few bites of toast. The cake is warm, fluffy and light on her tongue. She'd find it delicious if the taste of her grief wasn't rolling around in her mouth.<p>

She clears the dishes from the table while Alexis hops onto her father's lap to read the comics in the newspaper. She hears them giggling over their funny voices, the hum of their laughter lost under the rushing water of the faucet and the weight of her thoughts.

She's methodical, focused on the task in front of her. She scrubs each one vigorously with the brillo pad, likes the way it scrapes against her skin when she forces it over ceramic glass. She stacks the dishes neatly on the drying rack, the silverware faced down in its own holder.

When the sink is empty, she moves on. Water spots on the faucet, soap scum in the deep crevices, crumbs on the counter—she can't stop.

She's scraping out the inside of his toaster oven when a warm hand settles on her shoulder.

"Kate," he prods softly. She attempts to shake him off; she's fine, just needs to stay busy, but—

"Kate," he says again, a little rougher this time. More commanding. He circles her wrist gently and pries the sponge from her hand, dropping it into the sink.

"The kitchen is dirty, Castle," she says dumbly.

"I'll clean it later," he says, dismissive but indulging her all the same.

"I can do it now," she protests weakly, reaching around him to pluck the sponge from the sink.

But he pulls her away, his mouth warm at her ear. "I know you want to, and I wish you could, Kate, but you can't run away from this," he says gently.

She closes her eyes, swallowing hard, her throat thick. "Can," she rasps. "If you'd let me."

"Sorry," he murmurs, tugging her close. "Can't do that." He slides a hand through her hair and she caves into his chest, giving in. "But I can be help you through this if you'd let me."

"Don't know how," she mumbles into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Just be here with us, Kate. That's all." He rubs a hand down her back, warm and soothing. "Wanna curl up on the couch with Alexis and I? We can watch a movie or something," he suggests.

"Okay," she agrees. "Will you remind me to call my dad later?" She can't imagine she'd forget, but if she falls asleep-

"We can invite him to dinner, if you want. Nothing special. Just a meal here with the three of us, hmm?" he hums against her forehead.

She still hadn't really decided whether or not it'd be a good idea to see her Dad today, but—

Well, she wouldn't know until she tried. He'd been sober for months now and maybe it'd be good for the two of them to be together today.

"I'll call him in a couple of hours, see what he wants to do," she agrees. Right now, though, she just wants to cuddle with her boyfriend and his daughter, sandwich herself between them and their love.

He nods, gently tugging her head back to press his lips to hers. She sighs, her hand curling around his neck as she loses herself in his touch for a moment.

"Love you," he breathes into her mouth.

She allows herself a small smile. "Love you, too," she rasps.

He laces his fingers through hers and tugs her into the living room where Alexis waits for them, snug under a throw blanket, a small mug of hot chocolate in her hand.

"Anything on TV, pumpkin?" he asks, settling down onto one end of the couch, lifting his arm for Kate to snuggle into his side. She tucks herself into him and motions for Alexis to slide into her, a human sandwich. Alexis scootches over, careful not to jostle her cocoa.

Mmm. Kate could get used to this.

"Back to the Future marathon on TNT," Alexis says, shooting her Dad a knowing, excited look.

He grins. "Sweet." He looks down at Kate. "Sound good to you?" he asks, sweeping a thumb across her jaw.

She smiles, a little small, a little tight, but it's there. Genuine. "Sounds great, Castle."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the wait on this. Lost my vision and got distracted writing "Dissolution." There's only one more chapter of this. Lately, it's been quite frustrating for me to write this and while I could continue and write them into marriagekids and promote her to detective eventually, I'd have nothing to separate this story from the dozens of other AU stories like this one. I like to be unique and attempt to stand out among a sea of talented writers, which is why the next chapter will be the last one.**

**Thank you all for the support. **

**Liv**


	40. Chapter 40

She calls her Dad during a commercial break, somewhere towards the end of the first film. She steps into the kitchen as the line shrills in her ear, needing a little space. If she's gonna do this, she needs a little room to breathe. She leans her hip against the sliding glass door, the chill seeping through her clothes into her skin, warm from cuddling between Castle and Alexis.

He answers on the fourth ring, his voice a little hoarse. "Hello?"

She lets out a slow exhale, her warm breath fogging up the door. She rests her fingers there. "Hi, Dad."

"Kate." His voice is warmer now, full of happy surprise.

"Yeah," she says inanely. "Just thought I'd call to see-" she breaks off on a rough swallow, closing her eyes against the words that won't come.

"I'm okay, Katie," he promises.

She nods. "You're not alone, are you, Dad? Because-"

"Bill and I are watching a game. Drinking a few root beers."

She lets out a long sigh of relief that she didn't know she was holding. A part of her thought he'd slip up, find himself staring down the bottle. And she's always been able to tell from his voice when he'd been drinking. He'd talk a little slower, a little more patronizing.

But she doesn't hear any of that today.

"We're gonna have a little dinner here if you want to join us, get outta the house for awhile."

"How about a raincheck? I'm a little tired, not sure if I should make the drive."

She didn't consider that. He's never been the greatest of sleepers, especially sober. But she imagines-

Sleeping last night was probably hard on him.

"Sure, Dad. Maybe when I get home we can go out for Italian? Just the two of us."

"I'd love that."

She smiles at the sincerity in his voice, feels her heart unclenching a little after the stress of this day.

"I'll let you go, Dad. Just wanted to call to see how you were," she says softly. Her eyes lift to find Castle's reflection shuffling toward her. He slides a large warm, palm around her waist, nudging his nose against her cheek.

"Tell Rick and Alexis I said hello."

She rests her hand over his heart, smoothing the flannel over his shirt between her fingers. "I will," she promises.

"I love you, Katie."

She sighs, a shaky, shuddering thing that rattles through her bones. "I love you, too, Dad," she says hoarsely.

"We're gonna be okay," he says quietly.

She nods, leaning into the warmth of Castle's chest a little further. He combs his fingers gently through her hair, soothing her scalp. "Yeah." She swallows. "We will."

After a moment of silence, the line disconnects. She slides the phone into the pocket of her pants and turns in his arms, smudging her mouth against his in a soft kiss.

"Thank you," she murmurs, her thumbs gliding across his eyebrows.

She feels his smile against her cheek. "What for?"

"Just...being here today. For this." She slides her arms around his waist. "I didn't know I needed it."

He kisses her forehead. "Anytime."

"Did you have any immediate plans to return to New York?" she asks, her head falling to rest on his shoulder.

"Alexis has school on Monday, so we should probably head back tomorrow. But we can leave later in the day if you want."

"Sounds good."  
>"What do you wanna do about dinner later? I can whip us something up or we can grab something and bring it back here."<p>

"There's a little pizza place that's open year-round, just a few miles from here. Alexis likes pizza, right?"

"Kate, she's seven. Pizza is her favorite food group."

She laughs, her breath puffing against the skin of his neck. He shivers, rippling under her touch, her moment of joy.

She sinks her teeth into her lip, nudging her nose below his ear. "You think we can tire Alexis out so she falls asleep early tonight?" she asks. She brushes her mouth against his skin before sucking it a little, her fingers curling into his shirt.

His Adam's apple bobs, his fingers bruising at her hips. "I think that can be arranged," he rasps.

She can't think of anything better to end this tragic day than losing herself in him, the feeling of his skin slick against hers, filling her up.

"I love you, Castle," she breathes. _Thanks for sticking with me after everything we've been through._

"Wild horses, Kate," he murmurs. "'Couldn't keep me away."

_Complete._

* * *

><p><strong>I know you wanted something longer, especially after how long it's taken me to finish this. And I wanted to make it longer, I truly did, but I have nothing left to say. Honestly. I admit that I lost my way with this story, but I can't deny that it's helped me make myself a least somewhat known in our little fandom. So to everyone who's read and reviewed-I thank you. It's meant more to me than you'll ever know. And I apologize for not completely delivering the way I maybe should have. <strong>

**Liv**


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